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JOSEPH ADDISON. 



ESSAYS OF 
JOSEPH ADDISOiN 



WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY 
HAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE 



* 



NEW YORK 

THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. 

PUBLISHERS 






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CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Introduction vii 

SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 

Sir Roger at Home 3 

Sir Roger and Will. Wimble 7 

Sir Roger at Church lo 

Sir Roger and the Witches 13 

Sir Roger at the Assizes 17 

Sir Roger and the Gipsies 21 

Sir Roger in Town . .' 25 

Sir Roger in Westminster Abbey .... 29 

Sir Roger at the Play 34 

Sir Roger at Vauxhall 38 

Death of Sir Roger 41 

THE TATTLER'S COURT. 

Trial of the Dead in Reason 45 

Trial of the Petticoat 49 

Trial of the Wine-brewers 54 



IV CONTENTS. 

STATESWOMEN. 

PAGE 

Party Patches . .60 

Women and Liberty 64 

The Ladies' Association 68 

Meeting of the Association 73 

Politics and the Fan 77 

Pretty Disaffection 81 

HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 

The Royal Exchange 86 

Stage Lions 90 

The Political Upholsterer 94 

A Visit from the Upholsterer 98 

The Fortune Hunter 102 

Tom Folio 105 

The Man of the Town 109 

The Trunk-maker at the Play 112 

Coffee-house Politicians 116 

London Cries 120 

The Cat-call . .124 

The Newspaper 128 

Coffee-house Debates 132 

The Vision of Public Credit 135 

TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 

The Vision of Mirzah 140 

The Tale of Marraton 145 



CONTENTS. V 

PAGE 

The Golden Scales 151 

HiLPA AND ShALUM 1 55 

The Vision of Justice i6i 

THE COURT OF HONOUR. 

Institution of the Court 173 

Charge to the Jury 176 

Trial of Punctilios . . . . . . . 180 

Cases of False Delicacy 185 

Trial of Ladies' Quarrels . . . , . . 189 

Trial of False Affronts 193 

COUNTRY HUMOURS. 

The Tory Foxhunter 198 

The Foxhunter at a Masquerade .... 203 

Conversion of the Foxhunter 207 

Country Manners 212 

Country Fashions 215 

Country Etiquette 218 

The Grinning Match 222 

HUMOURS OF FASHION. 

A Beau's Head 227 

A Coquette's Heart 231 

The Hood 234 



VI CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

The Head-dress 238 

The Fan Exercise . . . . . . . 242 

A Lady's Diary 245 

Fashions from France 250 

Woman on Horseback 254 

VARIOUS ESSAYS. 

Omens 258 

Lady Orators 262 

Adventures of a Shilling 266 

Husbands and Wives 271 

Religions in Waxwork 274 

A Friend of Mankind 280 

Demurrers in Love . 284 

Sir Timothy Tittle 288 

Frozen Words 292 

The Tall Club 297 

Advice in Love 299 

Thoughts in Westminster Abbey .... 302 



INTRODUCTION.^ 

There are few figures in literary history more digni- 
fied or more attractive than Joseph Addison ; few 
men more eminently representative, not only of htera- 
ture as a profession, but of literature as an art. It 
has happened more than once that literary gifts of a 
high order have been lodged in very frail moral tene- 
ments ; that taste, feeling, and felicity of expression 
have been divorced from general intellectual power, 
from intimate acquaintance with the best in thought 
and art, from grace of manner and dignity of life. 
There have been writers of force and originality who 
failed to attain a representative eminence, to identify 
themselves with their art in the memory of the world. 
There have been other writers without claim to the 
possession of gifts of the highest order who have 
secured this distinction by virtue of harmony of char- 
acter and work, of breadth of interest, and of that fine 
intelligence which instinctively allies itself with the 
best in its time. Of this class Addison is an illustrious 
example. His gifts are not of the highest order ; 
there was none of the spontaneity, abandon, or fer- 
tility of genius in him ; his thought made no lasting 
contribution to the highest intellectual Hfe ; he set no 
pulses beating by his eloquence of style, and fired no 
imagination by the insight and emotion of his verse ; 

1 Copyright, 1896, by R. S. Peale and J. A. Hill, 
vii 



VIU INTRODUCTION. 

he was not a scholar in the technical sense; and yet, 
in an age which was stirred and stung by the immense 
satiric force of Swift, charmed by the wit and elegance 
of Pope, moved by the tenderness of Steele, and en- 
chanted by the fresh realism of De Foe, Addison 
holds the most representative place. He is, above all 
others, the Man of Letters of his time ; his name 
instantly evokes the literature of his period. 

Born in a rectory at Milston, Wiltshire, on May 
Day, 1672, it was Addison's fortune to take up the 
profession of Letters at the very moment when it was 
becoming a recognized profession, with a field of its 
own, and with emoluments sufficient in kind to make 
decency of living possible, and so related to a man's 
work that their acceptance involved loss neither of 
dignity nor of independence. He was contemporary 
with the first Enghsh publisher, Jacob Tonson. He 
was also contemporary with the notable reorganiza- 
tion of English prose, which freed it from exaggera- 
tion, complexity, and obscurity ; and he contributed 
not a little to the flexibility, charm, balance, and ease 
which have since characterized its best examples. He 
saw the rise of poHte society in its modern sense ; the 
development of the social resources of the city ; the 
enlargement of what is called " the reading class " to 
embrace all classes in the community and all orders in 
the nation. And he was one of the first, following the 
logic of a free press, — an organized business for the sale 
of books, and the appearance of popular interest in 
hterature, — to undertake the work of translating the 
best thought, feeling, sentiment, and knowledge of 
his time, and of all times, into the language of the 
drawing-room, the club, and the street, which has 
done so much to humanize and civilize the modern 
world. 



INTRODUCTION. IX 

To recognize these various opportunities, to feel 
intuitively the drift of sentiment and conviction, and 
so to adjust the uses of art to life as to exalt the one, 
and enrich and refine the other, involved not only the 
possession of gifts of a high order, but that training 
which puts a man in command of himself and of his 
materials. Addison was fortunate in that incompara- 
bly important education which assails a child through 
every sense, and above all through the imagination — 
in the atmosphere of a home, frugal in its service to 
the body, but prodigal in its ministry to the spirit. 
His father was a man of generous culture ; an Oxford 
scholar, who had stood frankly for the Monarchy and 
Episcopacy in Puritan times ; a voluminous and agree- 
able writer ; of whom Steele says that he bred his five 
children *' with all the care imaginable in a liberal and 
generous way." From this most influential of schools 
Addison passed on to other masters ; from the Gram- 
mar School at Lichfield, to the well-known Charter 
House ; and thence to Oxford, where he first entered 
Queen's College, and later became a member of 
Magdalen, to the beauty of whose architecture and 
natural situation the tradition of his walks and per- 
sonality adds no small charm. He was a close stu- 
dent, shy in manner, given to late hours of work. 
His literary tastes and appetite were early disclosed, 
and in his twenty-second year he was already known 
in London, had written an " Account of the Greatest 
English Poets," and had addressed some compHment- 
ary verses to Dryden, then the recognized head of 
English Letters. 

While Addison was hesitating what profession to 
follow, the leaders of the political parties were casting 
about for men of literary power. A new force had 
appeared in English politics — the force of public 



X INTRODUCTION. 

opinion; and in their experiments to control and 
direct this novel force, politicians were eager to se- 
cure the aid of men of Letters. The shifting of power 
to the House of Commons involved a radical read- 
justment, not only of the mechanism of political 
action, but of the attitude of public men to the nation. 
They felt the need of trained and persuasive inter- 
preters and advocates ; of the resources of wit, satire, 
and humour. It was this very practical service which 
literature was in the way of rendering to political 
parties, rather than any deep regard for literature 
itself, which brought about a brief but briUiant alHance 
between groups of men who have not often worked 
together to mutual advantage. It must be said, how- 
ever, that there were among the great Whig and Tory 
leaders of the time a certain Hberality of taste, and a 
care for those things which give pubhc life dignity 
and elegance, which were entirely absent from Robert 
Walpole and the leaders of the two succeeding reigns, 
when literature and politics were completely divorced, 
and the government knew Httle and cared less for the 
welfare of the arts. Addison came on the stage at 
the very moment when the government was not only 
ready but eager to foster such talents as his. He was 
a Whig of pronounced although modern type, and the 
Whigs were in power. 

Lord Somers and Charles Montagu, better known 
later as Lord Halifax, were the heads of the ministry, 
and his personal friends as well. They were men of 
culture, lovers of Letters, and not unappreciative of the 
personal distinction which already stamped the stu- 
dious and dignified Magdalen scholar. A Latin poem 
on the " Peace of Rysvvick," dedicated to Montagu, 
happily combined VirgiHan elegance and felicity with 
Whig sentiment and achievement. It confirmed the 



INTRODUCTION. XI 

judgment already formed of Addison's ability ; and, 
setting aside with friendly insistence the plan of putting 
that abihty into the service of the Church, Montagu 
secured a pension of ^300 for the purpose of en- 
abhng Addison to fit himself for pubhc employment 
abroad by thorough study of the French language, 
and of manners, methods, and institutions on the 
Continent. With eight Latin poems, published in 
the second volume of the " Musae AngHcanae," as an 
introduction to foreign scholars, and armed with letters 
of introduction from Montagu to many distinguished 
personages, Addison left Oxford in the summer of 1699, 
and, after a prolonged stay at Blois for purposes of 
study, visited many cities and interesting localities in 
France, Italy, Switzerland, Austria, Germany, and Hol- 
land. The shy, reticent, but observing young traveller 
was everywhere received with the courtesy which early 
in the century had made so deep an impression on the 
young Milton. He studied hard, saw much, and 
meditated more. He was not only fitting himself for 
public service, but for that delicate portraiture of 
manners which was later to become his distinctive 
work. Clarendon had already drawn a series of life- 
like portraits of men of action in the stormy period 
of the Revolution ; Addison was to sketch the society 
of his time with a touch at once delicate and firm ; 
to exhibit its hfe in those aspects which emphasize 
individual humour and personal quality, against a 
carefully wrought background of habit, manners, 
usage, and social condition. The habit of observa- 
tion and the wide acquaintance with cultivated and 
elegant social life which was a necessary part of the 
training for the work which was later to appear in the 
pages of the Spectator, were perhaps the richest 
educational results of these years of travel and 



Xll INTRODUCTION. 

Study; for Addison the official is a comparatively 
obscure figure, but Addison the writer is one of 
the most admirable and attractive figures in English 
history. 

Addison returned to England in 1 703 with clouded 
prospects. The accession of Queen Anne had been 
followed by the dismissal of the Whigs from office; 
his pension was stopped, his opportunity of advance- 
ment gone, and his father dead. The skies soon 
brightened, however; the support of the Whigs be- 
came necessary to the government ; the brilliant vic- 
tory of Blenheim shed lustre not only on Marlborough, 
but on the men with whom he was politically affihated ; 
and there was great dearth of poetic ability in the Tory ' 
ranks at the very moment when a notable achievement 
called for brave and splendid verse. Lord Godolphin, 
that easy-going and eminently successful politician of 
whom Charles the Second once shrewdly said that he 
was " never in the way and never out of it," was di- 
rected to Addison in this emergency; and the story 
goes that the Chancellor of the Exchequer, afterward 
Lord Carleton, who was sent to express to the needy 
scholar the wishes of the government, found him 
lodged in a garret over a small shop. The result of 
this memorable embassy from politics to literature was 
"The Campaign" : an eminently successful poem of 
the formal " occasional " order, which celebrated the 
victor of Blenheim with tact and taste, pleased the 
ministry, delighted the public, and brought reputation 
and fortune to its unknown writer. Its excellence is 
in skilful avoidance of fulsome adulation, in the 
exclusion of the well-worn classical allusions, and in a 
straightforward celebration of those really great quali- 
ties in Marlborough which set his military career in 
brilliant contrast with his private life. The poem 



INTRODUCTION. Xlll 

closed with a simile which took the world by 
storm ; — 

*'' So when an angel, by divine command, 
With rising tempests shakes a guilty land, 
(Such as of late o'er pale Britannia passed,) 
Calm and serene he drives the furious blast; 
And, pleased the Almighty's orders to perform, 
Rides in the whirlwind and directs the storm." 

"Addison left off at a good moment," says Thack- 
eray. " That simile was pronounced to be the greatest 
ever produced in poetry. That angel, that good 
angel, flew off with Mr. Addison, and landed him in 
the place of Commissioner of Appeals — vice Mr. 
Locke, providentially promoted. In the following 
year Mr. Addison went to Hanover with Lord Hahfax, 
and the year after was made Under-Secretary of State. 
O angel visits ! You come ' few and far between ' to 
literary gentlemen's lodgings ! Your wings seldom 
quiver at the second- floor windows now." 

The prize poem was followed by a narrative of travel 
in Italy, happily written, full of felicitous description, 
and touched by a humour which, in quality and man- 
ner, was new to English readers. Then came one of 
those indiscretions of the imagination which showed 
that the dignified and somewhat sober young poet, the 
"parson in a tye-wig," as he was called at a later day, 
was not lacking in gayety of mood. The opera 
" Rosamond " was not a popular success, mainly 
because the music to which it was set was so far below 
it in grace and ease. It must be added, however, that 
Addison lacked the quaUties of a successful hbretto 
writer. He was too serious, and despite the lightness 
of his touch, there was a certain rigidity in him which 
made him unapt at versification which required quick- 
ness, agility, and variety, When he attempted to give 



XIV INTRODUCTION. 

his verse gayety of manner, he did not get beyond 
awkward simulation of an ease which nature had de- 
nied him : — 

" Since conjugal passion 

Is come into fashion, 
And marriage so blest on the throne is 

Like Venus I '11 shine, 

Be fond and be fine, 
And Sir Trusty shall be my Adonis." 

Meanwhile, in spite of occasional clouds, Addison's 
fortunes were steadily advancing. The Earl of Whar- 
ton was appointed Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and 
Addison accepted the lucrative post of Secretary. 
Spenser had found time and place, during a similar 
service in the same country, to compose the " Faery 
Queene," although the fair land in which the loveli- 
est of Enghsh poems has its action was not unvexed by 
the chronic turbulence of a mercurial and badly used 
race. Irish residence was coincident in Addison's 
case, not only with prosperous fortunes and with im- 
portant friendships, but also with the beginning of the 
work on which his fame securely rests. In Ireland the 
acquaintance he had already made in London with 
Swift ripened into a generous friendship, which for a 
time resisted poHtical differences when such differences 
were the constant occasion of personal animosity and 
bitterness. The two men represented the age in an 
uncommonly complete way. Swift had the greater 
genius ; he was, indeed, in respect of natural endow- 
ment, the foremost man of his time ; but his nature 
was undisciplined, his temper uncertain, and his great 
powers quite as much at the service of his passions as 
of his principles. He made himself respected, feared, 
and finally hated ; his lack of restraint and balance, 
his ferocity of spirit when opposed, and the violence 



r 



INTRODUCTION. XV 

with which he assailed his enemies, neutralized his 
splendid gifts, marred his fortune, and sent him into 
lonely exile at Dublin, where he longed for the ampler 
world of London. Few figures in literary history are 
more pathetic than that of the old Dean of St. Patrick's, 
broken in spirit, faihng in health, his noble faculties 
gone into premature decay, forsaken, bitter, and re- 
morseful. At the time of Addison's stay in Ireland, 
the days of Swift's eclipse were, however, far distant ; 
both men were in their prime. That Swift loved 
Addison is clear enough ; and it is easy to understand 
the qualities which made Addison one of the most 
deeply loved men of his time. He was of an emi- 
nently social temper, although averse to large com- 
panies and shy and silent in their presence. " There 
is no such thing," he once said, "as real conversation 
but between two persons." He was free from malice, 
meanness, or jealousy. Pope to the contrary notwith- 
standing. He was absolutely loyal to his principles 
and to his friends, in a time when many men changed 
both with as httle compunction as they changed wigs 
and swords. His personality was singularly winning ; 
his features regular, and full of refinement and intelli- 
gence ; his bearing dignified and graceful ; his temper 
kindly and in perfect control ; his character without a 
stain ; his conversation enchanting, its charm con- 
fessed by persons so diverse in taste as Pope, Swift, 
Steele, and Young. Lady Mary Montagu declared that 
he was the best company she had ever known. He 
had two faults of which the world has heard much : he 
loved the company of men who flattered him, and at 
times he used wine too freely. The first of these 
defects was venial, and did not blind his judgment 
either of himself or his friends ; the second defect was 
so common among the men of his time that Addison's 



XVI INTRODUCTION. 

occasional over-indulgence, in contrast with the excesses 
of others, seems like temperance itself. 

The harmony and symmetry of this winning per- 
sonality have, in a sense, told against it ; for men are 
prone to call the well-balanced nature cold, and the 
well regulated life Pharisaic. Addison did not escape 
charges of this kind from the wild livers of his own 
time, who could not dissociate genius from profligacy 
nor generosity of nature from prodigaHty. It was one 
of the great services of Addison to his generation and 
to all generations, that in an age of violent passions, he 
showed how a strong man could govern himself. In 
a time of reckless living, he illustrated the power which 
flows from subordination of pleasure to duty. In a 
day when wit was identified with malice, he brought 
out its power to entertain, surprise, and delight, with- 
out taking on the irreverent levity of Voltaire, the 
bitterness of Swift, or the malice of Pope. 

It was during Addison's stay in Ireland that Richard 
Steele projected the Tatler, and brought out the first 
number in 1 709. His friendship for Addison amounted 
to a passion ; their intimacy was cemented by harmony 
of tastes and diversity of character. Steele was ardent, 
impulsive, warm-hearted, mercurial ; full of aspiration 
and beset by lamentable weaknesses, preaching the 
highest morahty and constantly falling into the preva- 
lent vices of his time ; a man of so lovable a temper, so 
generous a spirit, and so frank a nature, that his faults 
seem to humanize his character rather than to weaken 
and stain it. Steele's gifts were many, and they were 
always at the service of his feelings ; he had an Irish 
warmth of sympathy and an Irish readiness of humour, 
with great facility of expression. There had been 
poHtical journals in England since the time of the 
Revolution, but Steele conceived the idea of a journal 



INTRODUCTION. XVll 

which should comment on the events and character- 
istics of the time in a bright and humorous way ; using 
freedom with judgment and taste, and attacking the 
vices and folUes of the time with the hght equipment 
of wit rather than the heavy armament of the formal 
morahst. The time was ripe for such an enterprise. 
London was full of men and women of brilliant parts, 
whose manners, tastes, and talk presented rich material 
for humorous report and dehneation or for satiric com- 
ment. Society, in the modern sense, was fast taking 
form, and the resources of social intercourse were being 
rapidly developed. Men in pubhc Hfe were intimately 
allied with society and sensitive to its opinion ; and 
men of all interests — pohtical, fashionable, literary — 
gathered in groups at the different chocolate or'coffee 
houses, and formed a kind of organized community. 
It was distinctly an aristocratic society ; elegant in 
dress, punctiHous in manner, exacting in taste, ready 
to be amused, and not indifferent to criticism when it 
took the form of sprightly badinage or of keen and 
trenchant satire. The informal organization of society, 
which made it possible to reach and affect the Town 
as a whole, is suggested by the division of the 
Tatler : — 

*' All accounts of Gallantry, Pleasure, and Entertain- 
ment shall be under the article of White's Chocolate 
House ; Poetry under that of Will's Coffee-House ; 
Learning under the title of Grecian ; Foreign and 
Domestic News you will have from St. James's Coffee- 
House ; and what else I have to offer on any other 
subject shall be dated from my own apartment." 

So wrote Steele in his introduction to the readers of 
the new journal, which was to appear three times a 
week, at the cost of a penny. Of the coffee-houses 
enumerated, St. James's and White's were the head- 



XVIU INTRODUCTION. 

quarters of men of fashion and of politics ; the Grecian 
of men of legal learning ; Will's of men of Letters. 
The Tatler was successful from the start. It was 
novel in form and in spirit ; it was sprightly without 
being frivolous, witty without being indecent, keen 
without being Hbellous or malicious. In the general 
license and coarseness of the time, so close to the 
Restoration and the powerful reaction against Puri- 
tanism, the cleanness, courtesy, and good taste which 
characterized the journal had all the charm of a new 
diversion. In paper No. i8, Addison made his ap- 
pearance as a contributor, and gave the world the 
first of those inimitable essays which influenced their 
own time so widely, and which have become the 
solace'and dehght of all times. To Addison's influ- 
ence may perhaps be traced the change which came 
over the Tatler, and which is seen in the gradual dis- 
appearance of the news elements, and the steady drift 
of the paper away from journalism and toward litera- 
ture. Society soon felt the full force of the extraor- 
dinary talent at the command of the new censor of 
contemporary manners and morals. There was a 
self-directed and incessant fire of wit against the pre- 
vailing taste of dramatic art ; against the vices of 
gambUng and duelling ; against extravagance and affec- 
tation of dress and manner; and there was also 
criticism of a new order. 

The Tlz/Zfr was discontinued in January, 171 1, and 
the first number of the Spectator appeared in March. 
The new journal was issued daily, but it made no pre- 
tensions to newspaper timeliness or interest ; it aimed 
to set a new standard in manners, morals, and taste, 
without assuming the airs of a teacher. '' It was said 
of Socrates," wrote Addison, in a memorable chapter 
in the new journal, " that he brought philosophy down 



INTRODUCTION. XIX 

from heaven to inhabit among men ; and I shall be 
happy to have it said of me that I have brought Philos- 
ophy out of closets and libraries, schools and colleges, 
to dwell in clubs and assembhes, at tea-tables and in 
coffee-houses. " For more than two years the Spectatoi- 
discharged with inimitable skill and success the difficult 
function of chiding, reproving, and correcting, without 
irritating, wounding, or causing strife. Swift found the 
paper too gentle, but its influence was due in no small 
measure to its persuasiveness. Addison studied his 
method of attack as carefully as Matthew Arnold, who 
undertook a similar educational work in our own time, 
studied his means of approach to a public indifferent 
or hostile to his ideas. The two hundred and seventy- 
four papers furnished by Addison to the columns of 
the Spectator may be said to mark the full develop- 
ment of English prose as a free, flexible, clear, and 
elegant medium of expressing the most varied and 
delicate shades of thought. They mark also the 
perfection of the essay form in our literature ; reveal- 
ing clear perception of its limitations and of its re- 
sources ; easy mastery of its possibilities of serious 
exposition and of pervading charm ; abihty to employ 
its full capacity of conveying serious thought in a 
manner at once easy and authoritative. They mark 
also the beginning of a deeper and more intelligent 
criticism ; for their exposition of Milton may be said 
to point the way to a new quality of literary judgment 
and a new order of literary comment. These papers 
mark, finally, the beginnings of the English novel ; for 
they contain a series of character-studies full of insight, 
delicacy of drawing, true feeling, and sureness of touch. 
Addison was not content to satirize the follies, attack 
the vices, and picture the manners of his times : he 
created a group of figures which stand out as distinctly 



XX INTRODUCTION. 

as those which were drawn more than a century later 
by the hand of Thackeray, our greatest painter of 
manners. De Foe had not yet pubhshed the first of the 
great modern novels of incident and adventure in " Rob- 
inson Crusoe," and Richardson, Fielding, and Smollett 
were unborn or unknown, when Addison was sketch- 
ing Sir Roger de Coverley and Will Honeycomb, and 
filling in the background with charming studies of 
life in London and in the country. The world has 
instinctively selected Sir Roger de Coverley as the 
truest of all the creatures of Addison's imagination ; 
and it sheds clear light on the fineness of Addison's 
nature that among the four characters in fiction whom 
English readers have agreed to accept as typical gentle- 
men, — Don Quixote, Sir Roger de Coverley, Henry 
Esmond, and Colonel Newcome, — the old English 
baronet holds a secure place. 

Finished in style, but genuinely human in feeling, 
betraying the nicest choice of words and the most 
studied care for elegant and effective arrangement, 
and yet penetrated by geniality, enhvened by humour, 
elevated by high moral aims, often using the dangerous 
weapons of irony and satire, and yet always well- 
mannered and kindly, these papers reveal the sensitive 
nature of Addison, and the delicate but thoroughly 
tempered art which he had at his command. 

Rarely has Hterature of so high an order had such 
instant success ; for the popularity of the Spectator has 
been rivalled in English Hterature only by that of the 
VVaverley novels or of the novels of Dickens. Its in- 
fluence was felt not only in the sentiment of the day, 
and in the crowd of imitators which followed in its 
wake, but also across the Channel. In Germany espe- 
cially, the genius and methods of Addison made a deep 
and lasting impression. 



INTRODUCTION. XXI 

No man could reach such eminence in the first 
quarter of the last century without being tempted to 
try his hand at play-writing ; and the friendly fortune 
which seemed to serve Addison at every turn reached 
its cHmax in the applause which greeted the produc- 
tion of "Cato." The motive of this tragedy, con- 
structed on what were then held to be classic lines, is 
found in the two lines of the Prologue : it was an 
endeavour to portray 

" A brave man struggling in the storms of fate, 
And greatly falling with a falling State." 

The play was full of striking lines which were in- 
stantly caught up and applied to the existing political 
situation ; the theatre was crowded night after night, 
and the resources of Europe in the way of translations, 
plaudits, and favourable criticisms were exhausted in 
the endeavour to express the general approval. The 
judgment of a later period has, however, assigned 
" Cato " a secondary place, and it is remembered 
mainly on account of its many felicitous passages. It 
lacks real dramatic unity and vitality; the character 
of " Cato " is essentially an abstraction ; there is Httle 
dramatic necessity in the situations and incidents. It 
is rhetorical rather than poetic, declamatory rather 
than dramatic. Johnson aptly described it as " rather 
a poem in dialogue than a drama, rather a succession 
of just sentiments in elegant language than a represen- 
tation of natural affections or of any state probable or 
possible in human hfe." 

Addison's popularity touched its highest point in the 
production of "Cato." Even his conciliatory nature 
could not disarm the envy which such brilHant success 
naturally aroused, nor wholly escape the bitterness 
which the intense poHtical feeling of the time con- 



XXU INTRODUCTION. 

stantly bred between ambitious and able men. Politi- 
cal differences separated him from Swift, and Steele's 
uncertain character and inconsistent course blighted 
what was probably the most delightful intimacy of his 
life. Pope doubtless believed that he had good ground 
for charging Addison with jealousy and insincerity, and 
in 1 7 15 an open rupture took place between them. 
The story of the famous quarrel was first told by Pope, 
and his version was long accepted in many quarters 
as final ; but later opinion inclines to hold Addison 
guiltless of the grave accusations brought against him. 
Pope was morbidly sensitive to slights, morbidly eager 
for praise, and extremely irritable. To a man of such 
temper, trifles light as air became significant of malice 
and hatred. Such trifles unhappily confirmed Pope's 
suspicions ; his self-love was wounded, sensitiveness 
became animosity, and animosity became hate, which 
in the end inspired the most stinging bit of satire in the 
language : — 

" Should such a one, resolved to reign alone. 
Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne, 
View him with jealous yet with scornful eyes, 
Hate him for arts that caused himself to rise, 
Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, 
And, without sneering, teach the rest to sneer; 
Alike unused to blame or to commend, 
A timorous foe and a suspicious friend, 
Fearing e'en fools, by flatterers besieged, 
And so obliging that he ne'er obliged; 
WilUng to wound, and yet afraid to strike." 

There was just enough semblance of truth in these 
inimitable lines to give them lasting stinging power; 
but that they were grossly unjust is now generally con- 
ceded. Addison was human, and therefore not free 
from the frailties of men of his profession ; but there 
was no meanness in him. 



INTRODUCTION. XXlll 

Addison's loyalty to the Whig party and his ability 
to serve it kept him in intimate relations with its 
leaders and bound him to his fortunes. He served 
the Whig cause in Parliament, and filled many positions 
which required tact and judgment, attaining at last the 
very dignified post of Secretary of State. A long 
attachment for the Countess of Warwick culminated 
in marriage in 1 716, and Addison took up his residence 
in Holland House, — a house famous for its associa- 
tions with men of distinction in pohtics and letters. 
The marriage was not happy, if report is to be trusted. 
The union of the ill-adapted pair was, in any event, 
short-lived; for three years later, in 1719, Addison 
died in his early prime, not yet having completed his 
forty-eighth year. On his death-bed, Young tells us, 
he called his stepson to his side and said, " See in what 
peace a Christian can die." His body was laid in 
Westminster Abbey ; his work is one of the permanent 
possessions of the English-speaking race ; his character 
is one of its finest traditions. He was, as truly as Sir 
Philip Sidney, a gentleman in the sweetness of his 
spirit, the courage of his convictions, the refinement 
of his bearing, and the purity of his life. He was 
unspoiled by fortune and applause; uncorrupted by 
the tempting chances of his time ; stainless in the use 
of gifts which in the hands of a man less true would 
have caught the contagion of Pope's mahce or of 
Swift's corroding cynicism. 

Hamilton W. Mabie. 



SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY 



[/// his general account of the Spectator Club, Addi- 
son gives us a vigJiette of Sir Roger, which 7?iay serve 
as preface to his papers?^ 

The first of our society is a gentleman of Worcestershire, of 
ancient descent, a baronet, his name Sir Roger de Coverley. His 
great grandfather was inventor of that famous country-dance which 
is called after him. All who know that shire are very well acquainted 
with the parts and merits of Sir Roger, fie is a gentleman that is 
very singular in his behaviour, but his singularities proceed from his 
good sense, and are contradictions to the manners of the world, 
only as he thinks the world is in the wrong. However, this humour 
creates him no enemies, for he does nothing with sourness or obsti- 
nacy; and his being unconfined to modes and forms, makes him 
but the readier and more capable to please and oblige all who know 
him. When he is in town, he lives in Soho Square. It is said, he 
keeps himself a batch elor, by reason he was crossed in love by a 
perverse beautiful widow of the next county to him. Before this dis- 
appointment, Sir Roger was what you call a fine gentleman, had 
often supped with my Lord Rochester and Sir George Etherege, 
fought a duel upon his first coming to town, and kicked Bully Dawson 
in a public coffeehouse, for calling him youngster. But, being ill 
used by the above mentioned widow, he was very serious for a year 
and a half; and though, his temper being naturally jovial, he at last 
got over it, he grew careless of himself, and never dressed afterwards. 
He continues to wear a coat and doublet of the same cut, that were 
in fashion at the time of his repulse, which, in his merry humours, 
he tells us, has been in and out twelve times since he first wore it. 
He is now in his fifty-sixth year, chearful, gay, and hearty; keeps a 
good house both in town and country; a great lover of mankind; 
but there is such a mirthful cast in his behaviour, that he is rather 
beloved than esteemed. His tenants grow rich, his servants look 
satisfied, all the young women profess love to him, and the young 
men are glad of his company ; when he comes into a house, he calls 
the servants by their names, and talks all the way up stairs to a visit. 
I must not omit, that Sir Roger is a justice of the quorujn ; that he 
fills the chair at a quarter-session with great abilities, and three 
months ago, gained universal applause, by explaining a passage in 
the game-act. 



SIR ROGER AT HOME. 

Having often received an invitation from my friend 
Sir Roger de Coverley to pass away a month with him 
in the country, I last week accompanied him thither, 
and am settled with him for some time at his country- 
house, where I intend to form several of my ensuing 
speculations. Sir Roger, who is very well acquainted 
with my humour, lets me rise and go to bed when I 
please ; dine at his own table, or in my chamber, as I 
think fit ; sit still, and say nothing, without bidding 
me be merry. When the gentlemen of the country 
come to see him, he only shows me at a distance. As 
I have been walking in his fields, I have observed them 
stealing a sight of me over an hedge, and have heard 
the knight desiring them not to let me see them, for 
that I hated to be stared at. 

I am the more at ease in Sir Roger's family, because 
it consists of sober and staid persons ; for as the knight 
is the best master in the world, he seldom changes his 
servants ; and as he is beloved by all about him, his 
servants never care for leaving him : by this means 
his domestics are all in years, and grown old with their 
master. You would take his valet de chambre for his 
brother ; his butler is gray-headed ; his groom is one 
of the gravest men that I have ever seen ; and his 
coachman has the looks of a privy-councillor. You 
see the goodness of the master even in the old house- 
dog ; and in a gray pad, that is kept in the stable with 
great care and tenderness out of regard to his past ser- 
vices, though he has been useless for several years. 

3 



4 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 

I could not but observe with a great deal of pleas- 
ure, the joy that appeared in the countenances of 
these ancient domestics upon my friend's arrival at his 
country-seat. Some of them could not refrain from 
tears at the sight of their old master; every one of 
them pressed forward to do something for him, and 
seemed discouraged if they were not employed. At 
the same time the good old knight, with a mixture of 
the father and the master of the family, tempered the 
inquiries after his own affairs with several kind ques- 
tions relating to themselves. This humanity and good- 
nature engages everybody to him, so that when he is 
pleasant upon any of them, all his family are in good 
humour, and none so much as the person whom he 
diverts himself with : on the contrary, if he coughs, or 
betrays any infirmity of old age, it is easy for a stander- 
by to observe a secret concern in the looks of all his 
servants. 

My worthy friend has put me under the particular 
care of his butler, who is a very prudent man, and, as 
well as the rest of his fellow-servants, wonderfully de- 
sirous of pleasing me, because they have often heard 
their master talk of me as of his particular friend. 

My chief companion, when Sir Roger is diverting 
himself in the woods or the fields, is a very venerable 
man, who is ever with Sir Roger, and has lived at his 
house in the nature of a chaplain above thirty years. 
This gentleman is a person of good sense, and some 
learning, of a very regular life, and obliging conversa- 
tion : he heartily loves Sir Roger, and knows that he 
is very much in the old knight's esteem ; so that he lives 
in the family rather as a relation than a dependant. 

I have observed in several of my papers, that my 
friend Sir Roger, amidst all his good qualities, is some- 
thing of an humourist ; and that his virtues, as vyell as 



SIR ROGER AT HOME. 5 

imperfections, are, as it were, tinged by a certain ex- 
travagance, which makes them particularly his, and 
distinguishes them from those of other men. This 
cast of mind, as it is generally very innocent in itself, 
so it renders his conversation highly agreeable, and 
more delightful than the same degree of sense and 
virtue would appear in their common and ordinary 
colours. As I was walking with him last night, he 
asked me how I liked the good man whom I have 
just now mentioned ; and, without staying for my 
answer, told me, that he was afraid of being insulted 
with Latin and Greek at his own table ; for which 
reason, he desired a particular friend of his at the 
University, to find him out a clergyman rather of 
plain sense than much learning, of a good aspect, a 
clear voice, a sociable temper, and, if possible, a man 
that understood a Httle of backgammon. My friend 
(says Sir Roger) found me out this gentleman, who, 
besides the endowments required of him, is, they tell 
me, a good scholar, though he does not show it. I 
have given him the parsonage of the parish ; and 
because I know his value, have settled upon him a 
good annuity for life. If he outlives me, he shall find 
that he was higher in my esteem than perhaps he 
thinks he is. He has now been with me thirty years ; 
and, though he does not know I have taken notice of 
it, has never in all that time asked anything of me 
for himself, though he is every day soliciting me for 
something in behalf of one or other of my tenants, his 
parishioners. There has not been a law-suit in the 
parish since he has lived among them : if any dispute 
arises, they apply themselves to him for the decision ; 
if they do not acquiesce in his judgment, which I 
think never happened above once, or twice at most, 
they appeal to me. At his first setthng with me, I 



6 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 

made him a present of all the good sermons which 
have been printed in English, and only begged of him 
that every Sunday he would pronounce one of them 
in the pulpit. Accordingly, he has digested them into 
such a series, that they follow one another naturally, 
and make a continued system of practical divinity. 

As Sir Roger was going on in his story, the gentle- 
man we were talking of came up to us ; and upon the 
knight's asking him who preached to-morrow (for it 
was Saturday night), told us, the Bishop of St. Asaph 
in the morning, and Dr. South in the afternoon. He 
then showed us his list of preachers for the whole 
year, where I saw with a great deal of pleasure, Arch- 
bishop Tillotson, Bishop Saunderson, Doctor Barrow, 
Doctor Calamy, with several living authors who have 
published discourses of practical divinity. I no sooner 
saw this venerable man in the pulpit, but I very much 
approved of my friend's insisting upon the qualifica- 
tions of a good aspect and a clear voice ; for I was 
so charmed with the gracefulness of his figure and 
delivery, as well as the discourses he pronounced, 
that I think I never passed any time more to my 
satisfaction. A sermon repeated after this manner, 
is like the composition of a poet in the mouth of a 
graceful actor. 

I could heartily wish that more of our country clergy 
would follow this example, and, instead of wasting 
their spirits in laborious compositions of their own, 
would endeavour after a handsome elocution, and all 
those other talents that are proper to enforce what has 
been penned by greater masters. This would not only 
be more easy to themselves, but more edifying to the 
people. 



SIR ROGER AxND WILL. WIMBLE. 



SIR ROGER AND WILL. WIMBLE. 

As I was yesterday morning walking with Sir Roger 
before his house, a country fellow brought him a huge 
fish, which, he told him, Mr. William Wimble had 
caught that very morning ; and that he presented it with 
his service to him, and intended to come and dine 
with him. At the same time he delivered a letter, 
which my friend read to me as soon as the messenger 
left him. 

Sir Roger, 

I desire you to accept of a Jack, which is the best 
I have caught this season. I intend to come and stay with 
you a week, and see how the Perch bite in the Black 
river. I observed with some concern, the last time I saw 
you upon the Bowling-green, that your whip wanted a lash 
to it : I will bring half a dozen with me that I twisted last 
week, which I hope will serve you all the time you are in 
the country. I have not been out of the saddle for six 
days last past, having been at Eaton with Sir John's eldest 
son. He takes to his learning hugely. 

I am, Sir, your humble Servant, 

Will. Wimble. 

This extraordinary letter, and message that accom- 
panied it, made me very curious to know the charac- 
ter and quality of the gentleman who sent them; which 
I found to be as follows. Will. Wimble is younger 
brother to a baronet, and descended of the ancient 
family of the Wimbles. He is now between forty and 
fifty ; but being bred to no business, and born to no 
estate, he generally lives with his elder brother as 
superintendent of his game. He hunts a pack of 
dogs better than any man in the country, and is very 



8 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 

famous for finding out a hare. He is extremely well 
versed in all the little hancjicrafts of an idle man : he 
makes a May- fly to a miracle ; and furnishes the whole 
country with angle-rods. As he is a good-natured, 
officious fellow, and very much esteemed upon ac- 
count of his family, he is a welcome guest at every 
house, and keeps up a good correspondence among all 
the gentlemen about him. He carries a tulip root in 
his pocket from one to another, or exchanges a puppy 
between a couple of friends that live perhaps in the 
opposite sides of the county. Will, is a particular 
favourite of all the young heirs, whom he frequently 
obliges with a net that he has weaved, or a setting-dog 
that he has made himself; he now and then presents a 
pair of garters of his own knitting to their mothers or 
sisters ; and raises a great deal of mirth among them, 
by inquiring, as often as he meets them, ' how they 
wear? ' These gentleman-like manufactures, and obHg- 
ing Httle humours, make Will, the darhng of the 
country. 

Sir Roger was proceeding in the character of him, 
when he saw him make up to us with two or three 
hazel-twigs in his hand, that he had cut in Sir Roger's 
woods, as he came through them in his way to the 
house. I was very much pleased to observe on one 
side the hearty and sincere welcome with which Sir 
Roger received him, and on the other, the secret joy 
which his guest discovered at sight of the good old 
knight. After the first salutes were over. Will, desired 
Sir Roger to lend him one of his servants to carry a 
set of shuttle-cocks, he had with him in a little box, to 
a lady that Hved about a mile off, to whom it seems 
he had promised such a present for above this half- 
year. Sir Roger's back was no sooner turned, but 
honest Will, began to tell me of a large cock pheasant 



SIR ROGER AND WILL. WIMBLE. 9 

that he had sprung in one of the neighbouring woods, 
with two or three other adventures of the same nature. 
Odd and uncommon characters are the game that 
I look for, and most dehght in ; for which reason I 
was as much pleased with the novelty of the person 
that talked to me, as he could be for his life with the 
springing of a pheasant, and therefore listened to hiro. 
with more than ordinary attention. 

In the midst of his discourse the bell rung to dinner, 
where the gentleman I have been speaking of had the 
pleasure of seeing the huge Jack, he had caught, 
served up for the first dish in a most sumptuous man- 
ner. Upon our sitting down to it, he gave us a long 
account how he had hooked it, played with it, foiled 
it, and at length drew it out upon the bank, with sev- 
eral other particulars, that lasted all the first course. 
A dish of wild fowl, that came afterwards, furnished 
conversation for the rest of the dinner, which con- 
cluded with a late invention of Will.'s for improving 
the quail-pipe. 

Upon withdrawing into my room after dinner, I was 
secretly touched with compassion towards the honest 
gentleman that had dined with us ; and could not but 
consider, with a great deal of concern, how so good 
an heart, and such busy hands, were wholly employed 
in trifles ; that so much humanity should be so little 
beneficial to others, and so much industry so little 
advantageous to himself. The same temper of mind, 
and application to aifairs, might have recommended 
him to the pubhc esteem, and have raised his fortune 
in another station of life. What good to his country, 
or himself, might not a trader or merchant have done 
vith such useful, though ordinary, qualifications? 

Will. Wimble's is the case of many a younger brother 
of a great family, who bad rather see their children 



10 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 

Starve like gentlemen, than thrive in a trade or profes- 
sion that is beneath their quality. This humour fills 
several parts of Europe with pride and beggary. It is 
the happiness of a trading nation, hke ours, that the 
younger sons, though incapable of any liberal art or 
profession, may be placed in such a way of life, as 
may perhaps enable them to vie with the best of their 
family : accordingly, we find several citizens that were 
launched into the world with narrow fortunes, rising 
by an honest industry to greater estates than those of 
their elder brothers. It is not improbable but Will, 
was formerly tried at divinity, law, or physic ; and that 
finding his genius did not He that way, his parents gave 
him up at length to his own inventions. But certainly, 
however improper he might have been for studies oif 
a higher nature, he was perfectly well turned for the 
occupations of trade and commerce. 



SIR ROGER AT CHURCH. 

I AM always very well pleased with a country Sun- 
day ; and think, if keeping holy the seventh day were 
only a human institution, it would be the best method 
that could have been thought of for the polishing and 
civilizing of mankind. It is certain the country-people 
would soon degenerate into a kind of savages and bar- 
barians, were there not such frequent returns of a stated 
time, in which the whole village meet together with 
their best faces, and in their cleanliest habits, to con- 
verse with one another upon indifferent subjects, hear 
their duties explained to them, and join together in 
adoration of the Supreme Being. Sunday clears away 
the rust of the whole week, not only as it refreshes in 



SIR ROGER AT CHURCH. II 

their minds the notions of religion, but as it puts both 
the sexes upon appearing in their most agreeable forms, 
and exerting all such qualities as are apt to give them 
a figure in the eye of the village. A country-fellow dis- 
tinguishes himself as much in the church-yard as a citi- 
zen does upon the Change, the whole parish-politics 
being generally discussed in that place either after ser- 
mon or before the bell rings. 

My friend Sir Roger, being a good church-man, has 
beautified the inside of his church with several texts of 
his own choosing ; he has hkewise given a handsome 
pulpit-cloth, and railed in the communion-table at his 
own expense. He has often told me, that at his com- 
ing to his estate he found his parishioners very irregu- 
lar ; and that in order to make them kneel and join in 
the responses, he gave every one of them a hassoc and 
a Common Prayer Book ; and at the same time em- 
ployed an itinerant singing-master, who goes about the 
country for that purpose, to instruct them rightly in 
the tunes of the psalms ; upon which they now very 
much value themselves, and indeed out-do most of the 
country churches that I have ever heard. 

As Sir Roger is landlord to the whole congregation, 
he keeps them in very good order, and will sufi'er no- 
body to sleep in it besides himself ; for if by chance 
he has been surprised into a short nap at sermon, upon 
recovering out of it he stands up and looks about him, 
and if he sees anybody else nodding, either wakes them 
himself, or sends his servant to them. Several other 
of the old knight's particularities break out upon these 
occasions : sometimes he will be lengthening out a 
verse in the singing-psalms, half a minute after the rest 
of the congregation have done with it ; sometimes, 
when he is pleased with the matter of his devotion, he 
pronounces Amen three or four times to the same 



12 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 

prayer ; and sometimes stands up when everybody else 
is upon their knees, to count the congregation, or see 
if any of his tenants are missing. 

I was yesterday very much surprised to hear my old 
friend, in the midst of the service, calling out to one 
John Matthews to mind what he was about, and not 
disturb the congregation. This John Matthews, it 
seems, is remarkable for being an idle fellow, and at 
that time was kicking his heels for his diversion. This 
authority of the knight, though exerted in that odd 
manner which accompanies him in all circumstances 
of life, has a very good effect upon the parish, who are 
not polite enough to see anything ridiculous in his 
behaviour; besides that the general good sense and 
worthiness of his character, make his friends observe 
ihese little singularities as foils that rather set off than 
blemish his good qualities. 

As soon as the sermon is finished, nobody presumes 
to stir till Sir Roger is gone out of the church. The 
knight walks down from his seat in the chancel between 
a double row of his tenants, that stand bowing to him 
on each side ; and every now and then he inquires 
how such an one's wife, or mother, or son, or father 
do, whom he does not see at church ; which is un- 
derstood as a secret reprimand to the person that is 
absent. 

The chaplain has often told me, that upon a cate- 
chising-day, when Sir Roger has been pleased with a 
boy that answers well, he has ordered a Bible to be 
given him next day for his encouragement ; and some- 
times accompanies it with a flitch of bacon to his 
mother. Sir Roger has Ukewise added five pounds a 
year to the clerk's place ; and that he may encourage 
the young fellows to make themselves perfect in the 
church-service, has promised, upon the death of the 



SIR ROGER AND THE WITCHES. 1 3 

present incumbent, who is very old, to bestow it ac- 
cording to merit. 

The fair understanding between Sir Roger and his 
chaplain, and their mutual concurrence in doing good, 
is the more remarkable, because the very next village 
is famous for the differences and contentions that rise 
between the parson and the 'squire, who live in a per- 
petual state of war. The parson is always at the 'squire, 
and the 'squire, to be revenged on the parson, never 
comes to church. The 'squire has made all his tenants 
atheists and tithe-stealers ; while the parson instructs 
them every Sunday in the dignity of his order, and in- 
sinuates to them, almost in every sermon, that he is 
a better man than his patron. In short, matters are 
come to such an extremity, that the 'squire has not 
said his prayers either in public or private this half 
year ; and that the parson threatens him, if he does 
not mend his manners, to pray for him in the face of 
the whole congregation. 

Feuds of this nature, though too frequent in the coun- 
try, are very fatal to the ordinary people ; who are so 
used to be dazzled with riches, that they pay as much 
deference to the understanding of a man of an estate, as 
of a man of learning ; and are very hardly brought to 
regard any truth, how important soever it may be, that 
is preached to them, when they know there are several 
men of five hundred a year who do not believe it. 



SIR ROGER AND THE WITCHES. 

There are some opinions in which a man should 
stand neuter, without engaging his assent to one side 
or the other. Such a hovering faith as this, which* re- 
fuses to settle upon any determination, is absolutely 



14 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 

necessary in a mind that is careful to avoid errors and 
prepossessions. When the arguments press equally 
on both sides in matters that are indifferent to us, the 
safest method is to give up ourselves to neither. 

It is with this temper of mind that 1 consider the 
subject of witchcraft. When I hear the relations that 
are made from all parts of the world, not only from 
Norway and Lapland, from the East and West Indies, 
but from every particular nation in Europe, I cannot 
forbear thinking that there is such an intercourse and 
commerce with evil spirits, as that which we express 
by the name of witchcraft. But when I consider that 
the ignorant and credulous parts of the world abound 
most in these relations, and that the persons among 
us who are supposed to engage in such an infernal 
commerce, are people of a weak understanding and 
crazed imagination, and at the same time reflect upon 
the many impostures and delusions of this nature that 
have been detected in all ages, I endeavour to suspend 
my belief, till I hear more certain accounts than any 
which have yet come to my knowledge. In short, 
when I consider the question. Whether there are such 
persons in the world as those we call witches? my 
mind is divided between two opposite opinions ; or 
rather (to speak my thoughts freely) I believe in gen- 
eral that there is, and has been, such a thing as witch- 
craft ; but at the same time can give no credit to any 
particular instance of it. 

I am engaged in this speculation, by some occur- 
rences that I met with yesterday, which I shall give 
my reader an account of at large. As I was walking 
with my friend Sir Roger, by the side of one of his 
woods, an old woman apphed herself to me for my 
charity. Her dress and figure put me in mind of the 
following description in Otway : 



SIR ROGER AND THE WITCHES. 1 5 

In a close lane, as I pursued my journey, 
I spied a wrinkled hag, with age grown double, 
Picking dry sticks, and mumbling to herself. 
Her eyes with scalding rheum were galled and red; 
Cold palsy shook her head ; her hands seemed withered; 
And on her crooked shoulders had she wrapped 
The tattered remnants of an old stripped hanging. 
Which served to keep her carcass from the cold, 
So there was nothing of a piece about her. 
Her lower weeds were all o'er coarsely patched 
With different coloured rags, black, red, white, yellow, 
And seemed to speak variety of wretchedness. 

As I was musing on this description, and comparing 
it with the object before me, the knight told me, that 
this very old woman had the reputation of a witch all 
over the country, that her lips were observed to be al- 
ways in motion, and that there was not a switch about 
her house which her neighbours did not beheve had 
carried her several hundreds of miles. If she chanced 
to stumble, they always found sticks or straws that lay 
in the figure of a cross before her. If she made any 
mistake at church, and cried Amen in a wrong place, 
they never failed to conclude that she was saying her 
prayers backwards. There was not a maid in the 
parish that would take a pin of her, though she should 
offer a bag of money with it. She goes by the name 
of Moll White, and has made the country ring with 
several imaginary exploits which are palmed upon her. 
If the dairy-maid does not make her butter to come so 
soon as she would have it, Moll White is at the bottom 
of the churn. If a horse sweats in the stable, Moll White 
has been upon his back. If a hare makes an unexpected 
escape from the hounds, the huntsman curses Moll 
White. Nay, (says Sir Roger,) I have known the master 
of the pack, upon such an occasion, send one of his 
servants to see if Moll White had been out that morning. 



l6 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 

• This account raised my curiosity so far, that I 
begged my friend Sir Roger to go with me into her 
hovel, which stood in a soHtary corner under the side 
of the wood. Upon our first entering. Sir Roger 
winked to me, and pointed to something that stood 
behind the door, which, upon looking that way, I found 
to be an old broom-staff. At the same time he whis- 
pered me in the ear, to take notice of a tabby cat that 
sat in the chimney-corner, which, as the knight told me, 
lay under as bad a report as Moll White herself; for 
besides that Moll is said often to accompany her in 
the same shape, the cat is reported to have spoken 
twice or thrice in her life, and to have played several 
pranks above the capacity of an ordinary cat. 

I was secretly concerned to see human nature in so 
much wretchedness and disgrace, but at the same time 
could not forbear smiling to hear Sir Roger, who is a 
little puzzled about the old woman, advising her, as a 
justice of peace, to avoid all communication with the 
devil, and never to hurt any of her neighbours' cattle. 
We concluded our visit with a bounty, which was very 
acceptable. 

In our return home. Sir Roger told me that old Moll 
had been often brought before him for making chil- 
dren spit pins, and giving maids the night-mare ; and 
that the country people would be tossing her into a 
pond, and trying experiments with her every day, if it 
was not for him and his chaplain. 

I have since found, upon inquiry, that Sir Roger was 
several times staggered with the reports that had been 
brought him concerning this old woman, and would 
frequently have bound her over to the county sessions, 
had not his chaplain with much ado persuaded him to 
the contrary. 

I have been the more particular in this account, be- 



SIR ROGER AT THE ASSIZES. 1 7 

cause I hear there is scarce a village in England that 
has not a Moll White in it. When an old woman begins 
to dote, and grow chargeable to a parish, she is gener- 
ally turned into a witch, and fills the whole country 
with extravagant fancies, imaginary distempers, and 
terrifying dreams. In the mean time the poor wretch 
that is the innocent occasion of so many evils, begins 
to be frighted at herself, and sometimes confesses 
secret commerces and familiarities that her imagina- 
tion forms in a delirious old age. This frequently cuts 
off charity from the greatest objects of compassion, 
and inspires people with a malevolence towards those 
poor decrepit parts of our species, in whom human 
nature is defaced by infirmity and dotage. 



SIR ROGER AT THE ASSIZES. 

A man's first care should be to avoid the reproaches 
of his own heart ; his next, to escape the censures of 
the world : if the last interferes with the former, it 
ought to be entirely neglected ; but otherwise there 
cannot be a greater satisfaction to an honest mind, 
than to see those approbations which it gives itself 
seconded by the applauses of the public : a man is 
more sure of his conduct, when the verdict which he 
passes upon his own behaviour is thus warranted and 
confirmed by the opinion of all that know him. 

My worthy friend Sir Roger is one of those who is 
not only at peace within himself, but beloved and es- 
teemed by all about him. He receives a suitable trib- 
ute for his universal benevolence to mankind, in the 
returns of affection and good-will which are paid him 
by every one that lives within his neighbourhood. I 



l8 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 

lately met with two or three odd mstances of that gen- 
eral respect which is shown to the good old knight. 
He would needs carry Will. Wimble and myself with 
him to the country assizes : as we were upon the road, 
Will. Wimble joined a couple of plain men who rid be- 
fore us, and conversed with them for some time ; dur- 
ing which my friend Sir Roger acquainted me with 
their characters. 

The first of them, says he, that hath a spaniel by his 
side, is a yeoman of about a hundred pounds a year, 
an honest man : he is just within the game act, and 
qualified to kill an hare or a pheasant : he knocks 
down a dinner with his gun twice or thrice a week ; 
and by that means lives much cheaper than those who 
have not so good an estate as himself. He would be 
a good neighbour if he did not destroy so many par- 
tridges : in short, he is a very sensible man ; shoots 
flying ; and has been several times fore-man of the 
petty-jury. 

The other that rides with him is Tom Touchy, a 
fellow famous for taking the law of everybody. There 
is not one in the town where he lives that he has not 
sued at a quarter-sessions. , The rogue had once the 
impudence to go to law with the widow. His head is 
full of costs, damages, and ejectments : he plagued a 
couple of honest gentlemen so long for a trespass in 
breaking one of his hedges, till he was forced to sell 
the ground it enclosed to defray the charges of the 
prosecution. His father left him fourscore pounds a 
year ; but he has cast and been cast so often, that he 
is not now worth thirty. I suppose he is going upon 
the old business of the willow-tree. 

As Sir Roger was giving me this account of Tom 
Touchy, Will. Wimble and his two companions stopped 
short till we came up to them. After having paid their 



SIR ROGER AT THE ASSIZES. 1 9 

respects to Sir Roger, Will, told him that Mr. Touchy 
and he must appeal to him upon a dispute that arose 
between them. Will., it seems, had been giving his 
fellow-travellers an account of his angling one day in 
such a hole ; when Tom Touchy, instead of hearing 
out his story, told him, that Mr. such an one, if he 
pleased, might take the law of him for fishing in that 
part of the river. My friend Sir Roger heard them 
both, upon a round trot, and after having paused some 
time, told them, with an air of a man who would not 
give his judgment rashly, that much might be said on 
both sides. They were neither of them dissatisfied 
with the knight's determination, because neither of 
them found himself in the wrong by it : upon which 
we made the best of our way to the assizes. 

The court was sat before Sir Roger came, but not- 
withstanding all the justices had taken their places 
upon the bench, they made room for the old knight 
at the head of them ; who, for his reputation in the 
country, took occasion to whisper in the judge's ear, 
that he was glad his lordship had met with so much 
good weather in his circuit. I was listening to the 
proceedings of the court with much attention, and in- 
finitely pleased with that great appearance of solemnity 
which so properly accompanies such a public adminis- 
tration of our laws ; when, after about an hour's sitting, 
I observed, to my great surprise, in the midst of a 
trial, that my friend Sir Roger was getting up to speak. 
I was in some pain for him, till I found he had ac- 
quitted himself of two or three sentences, with a look 
of much business and great intrepidity. 

Upon his first rising the court was hushed, and a 
general whisper ran among the country people that Sir 
Roger was up. The speech he made was so httle to 
the purpose, that I shall not trouble my readers with 



20 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 

an account of it ; and I believe was not so much de- 
signed by the knight himself to inform the court, as to 
give him a figure in my eye, and keep up his credit in 
the country. 

I was highly delighted, when the court rose, to see 
the gentlemen of the country gathering about my old 
friend, and striving who should compliment him most ; 
at the same time that the ordinary people gazed upon 
him at a distance, not a Httle admiring his courage, 
that was not afraid to speak to the judge. 

In our return home we met with a very odd acci- 
dent; which I cannot forbear relating, because it 
shows how desirous all who know Sir Roger are of 
giving him marks of their esteem. When we were 
arrived upon the verge of his estate, we stopped at a 
litde inn to rest ourselves and our horses. The man 
of the house had, it seems, been formerly a servant in 
the knight's family; and to do honour to his old 
master, had some time since, unknown to Sir Roger, 
put him up in a sign-post before the door ; so that 
The Knight's Head had hung out upon the road about 
a week before he himself knew anything of the matter. 
As soon as Sir Roger was acquainted with it, finding 
that his servant's indiscretion proceeded wholly from 
affection and good-will, he only told him that he had 
made him too high a compliment : and when the 
fellow seemed to think that could hardly be, added 
with a more decisive look, that it was too great an 
honour for any man under a duke ; but told him at 
the same time, that it might be altered with a very few 
touches, and that he himself would be at the charge 
of it. Accordingly they got a painter by the knight's 
directions to add a pair of whiskers to the face, and by 
a little aggravation of the features to change it into the 
Saracen's Head, I should not have known this story, 



SIR ROGER AND THE GIPSIES. 21 

had not the inn-keeper, upon Sir Roger's alighting, 
told him in my hearing that his Honour's head was 
brought back last night, with the alterations that he 
had ordered to be made in it. Upon this my friend, 
with his usual cheerfulness, related the particulars 
above-mentioned, and ordered the head to be brought 
into the room. I could not forbear discovering greater 
expressions of mirth than ordinary upon the appear- 
ance of this monstrous face, under which, notwith- 
standing it was made to frown and stare in the most 
extraordinary manner, I could still discover a distant 
resemblance of my old friend. Sir Roger, upon seeing 
me laugh, desired me to tell him truly if I thought it 
possible for people to know him in that disguise. I at 
first kept my usual silence ; but upon the knight's con- 
juring me to tell him whether it was not still more like 
himself than a Saracen, I composed my countenance 
in the best manner I could, and replied, ' That much 
might be said on both sides.' 

These several adventures, with the knight's behav- 
iour in them, gave me as pleasant a day as ever I 
met with in any of my travels. 



SIR ROGER AND THE GIPSIES. 

As I was yesterday riding out in the fields with my 
friend Sir Roger, we saw at a little distance from us 
a troop of gipsies. Upon the first discovery of them, 
my friend was in some doubt whether he should not 
exert the justice of peace upon such a band of lawless 
vagrants : but not having his clerk with him, who is 
a necessary counsellor on these occasions, and fearing 
that his poultry might fare the worse for it, he let the 



22 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 

thought drop. But at the same time gave me & 
particular account of the mischiefs they do in the 
country, in stealing people's goods, and spoiling their 
servants. ' If a stray piece of linen hangs upon an 
hedge, (says Sir Roger,) they are sure to have it ; if 
a hog loses his way in the fields, it is ten to one but 
he becomes their prey : our geese cannot live in peace 
for them. If a man prosecutes them with severity, his 
hen-roost is sure to pay for it. They generally straggle 
into these parts about this time of the year ; and set 
the heads of our servant-maids so agog for husbands, 
that we do not expect to have any business done, as 
it should be, whilst they are in the country. I have 
an honest dairy-maid who crosses their hands with 
a piece of silver every summer ; and never fails being 
promised the handsomest young fellow in the parish 
for her pains. Your friend the butler has been fool 
enough to be seduced by them ; and though he is 
sure to lose a knife, a fork, or a spoon, every time his 
fortune is told him, generally shuts himself up in 
the pantry with an old gipsy for about half an hour 
once in a twelvemonth. Sweethearts are the things they 
live upon, which they bestow very plentifully upon all 
those that apply themselves to them. You see now 
and then some handsome young jades among them : 
the sluts have very often white teeth and black eyes.' 

Sir Roger observing that I listened with great at- 
tention to his account of a people who were so entirely 
new to me, told me, that if I would, they should tell 
us our fortunes. As I was very well pleased with the 
knight's proposal, we rid up and communicated our 
hands to them. A Cassandra of the crew, after having 
examined my lines very diligently, told me that I 
loved a pretty maid in a corner, that I was a good 
woman's man, with some other particulars which I 



SIR ROGER AND THE GIPSIES. 23 

do not think proper to relate. My friend Sir Roger 
alighted from his horse, and exposing his palm to two 
or three that stood by him, they crumpled it into all 
shapes, and diligently scanned every wrinkle that 
could be made in it ; when one of them, who was 
older and more smi- burnt than the rest, told him that 
he had a widow in his hne of hfe : upon which the 
knight cried, ' Go, go, you are an idle baggage ; ' and 
at the same time smiled upon me. The gipsy finding 
he was not displeased in his heart, told him, after a 
further inquiry into his hand, that his true love was 
constant, and that she should dream of him to-night. 
My old friend cried pish, and bid her go on. The 
gipsy told him that he was a bachelor, but would not 
be so long ; and that he was dearer to somebody than 
he thought. The knight still repeated, she was an 
idle baggage, and bid her go on. ' Ah, master, (says 
the gipsy,) that roguish leer of yours makes a pretty 
woman's heart ache-; you ha'n't that simper about the 
mouth for nothing.' The uncouth gibberish with which 
all this was uttered, like the darkness of an oracle, 
made us the more attentive to it. To be short, the 
knight left the money with her that he had crossed 
her hand with, and got up again on his horse. 

As we were riding away, Sir Roger told me, that he 
knew several sensible people who believed these gipsies 
now and then foretold very strange things ; and for half 
an hour together appeared more jocund than ordinary. 
In the height of this good humour, meeting a common 
beggar upon the road who was no conjurer, as he 
went to relieve him, he found his pocket was picked ! 
that being a kind of palmistry at which this race of 
vermin are very dexterous. 

I might here entertain my reader with historical 
remarks on this idle, profligate people, who infest all 



24 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 

the countries of Europe, and live in the midst of 
governments in a kind of commonwealth by them- 
selves. But, instead of entering into observations of 
this nature, I shall fill the remaining part of my paper 
with a story which is still fresh in Holland, and was 
printed in one of our monthly accounts about twenty 
years ago. ' As the Trekschuyt, or Hackney-boat, 
which carries passengers from Leyden to Amsterdam, 
was putting off, a boy running along the side of the 
canal desired to be taken in ; which the master of the 
boat refused, because the lad had not quite money 
enough to pay the usual fare. An eminent merchant 
being pleased with the looks of the boy, and secretly 
touched with compassion towards him, paid the money 
for him, and ordered him to be taken on board. Upon 
talking with him afterwards, he found that he could 
speak readily in three or four languages, and learned 
upon further examination, that he had been stolen 
away when he was a child by a gipsy, and had rambled 
ever since with a gang of those strollers up and down 
several parts of Europe. It happened that the mer- 
chant, whose heart seems to have inclined towards 
the boy by a secret kind of instinct, had himself lost 
a child some years before. The parents, after a long 
search for him, gave him for drowned in one of the 
canals with which that country abounds ; and the 
mother was so afflicted at the loss of a fine boy, who 
was her only son, that she died for grief of it. Upon 
laying together all particulars, and examining the 
several moles and marks by which the mother used 
to describe the child when he was first missing, the 
boy proved to be the son of the merchant, whose heart 
had so unaccountably melted at the sight of him. 
The lad was very well pleased to find a father who 
was so rich, and likely to leave him a good estate : 



SIR ROGER IN TOWN. 2$ 

the father, on the other hand, was not a little delighted 
to see a son return to him, whom he had given for 
lost, with such a strength of constitution, sharpness 
of understanding, and skill in languages.' Here the 
printed story leaves off; but if I may give credit to 
reports, our linguist having received such extraordinary 
rudiments towards a good education, was afterwards 
trained up in everything that becomes a gentleman ; 
wearing off, by little and litde, all the vicious habits 
and practices that he had been used to in the course 
of his peregrinations : nay, it is said, that he has since 
been employed in foreign courts upon national busi- 
ness, with great reputation to himself, and honour to 
those who sent him, and that he had visited several 
countries as a public minister, in which he formerly 
wandered as a gipsy. 



SIR ROGER IN TOWN. 

I WAS this morning surprised with a great knocking 
at the door, when my landlady's daughter came up to 
me and told me there was a man below desired to 
speak with me. Upon my asking her who it was, she 
told me it was a very grave elderly person, but that 
she did not know his name. I immediately went 
down to him, and found him to be the coachman of 
my worthy friend Sir Roger de Coverley. He told 
me that his master came to town last night, and would 
be glad to take a turn with me in Grays-Inn walks. 
As I was wondering in myself what had brought Sir 
Roger to town, not having lately received any letter 
from him, he told me that his master was come up to 
get a sight of Prince Eugene, and that he desired I 
would immediately meet him. 



26 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 

I was not a little pleased with the curiosity of the 
old knight, though I did not much wonder at it, 
having heard him say more than once in private 
discourse, that he looked upon Prince Eugenio (for so 
the knight always calls him) to be a greater man than 
Scanderbeg. 

I was no sooner come into Grays- Inn walks, but I 
heard my friend upon the terrace hemming twice or 
thrice to himself with great vigour, for he loves to 
clear his pipes in good air (to make use of his own 
phrase), and is not a httle pleased with any one who 
takes notice of the strength which he still exerts in his 
morning hems. 

I was touched with a secret joy at the sight of the 
good old man, who before he saw me was engaged in 
conversation with a beggar- man that had asked an 
alms of him. I could hear my friend chide him for 
not finding out some work ; but at the same time saw 
him put his hand in his pocket and give him six- 
pence. 

Our salutations were very hearty on both sides, 
consisting of many kind shakes of the hand, and 
several affectionate looks which we cast upon one 
another. After which the knight told me my good 
friend his chaplain was very well, and much at my 
service, and that the Sunday before he had made a 
most incomparable sermon out of Doctor Barrow. 
* I have left,' says he, ' all my affairs in his hands, and 
being willing to lay an obligation upon him, have 
deposited with him thirty marks, to be distributed 
among his poor parishioners.' 

He then proceeded to acquaint me with the welfare 
of Will. Wimble. Upon which he put his hand into 
his fob, and presented me in his name with a tobacco 
stopper, telling me that Will, had been busy all the 



SIR ROGER IN TOWN. 27 

beginning of the winter in turning great quantities of 
them ; and that he made a present of one to every 
gentleman in the country who has good principles, 
and smokes. He added, that poor Will, was at 
present under great tribulation, for that Tom Touchy, 
had taken the law of him for cutting some hazel sticks 
out of one of his hedges. 

Among other pieces of news which the knight 
brought from his country seat, he informed me that 
Moll White was dead ; and that about a month after 
her death the wind was so very high that it blew 
down the end of one of his barns. ' But for my part,' 
says Sir Roger, ' I do not think that the old woman 
had any hand in it.' 

He afterwards fell into an account of the diversions 
which had passed in his house during the holidays, 
for Sir Roger, after the laudable custom of his 
ancestors, always keeps open house at Christmas. 
I learned from him, that he had killed eight fat hogs 
for this season, thai^ he had dealt about his chines 
very liberally amongst his neighbours, and that in 
particular he had sent a string of hog's puddings with 
a pack of cards to every poor family in the parish. 
' I have often thought,' says Sir Roger, * it happens 
very well that Christmas should fall out in the middle 
of the winter. It is the most dead, uncomfortable 
time of the year, when the poor people would suffer 
very much from their poverty and cold, if they had 
not good cheer, warm fires, and Christmas gambols to 
support them. I love to rejoice their poor hearts at 
this season, and to see the whole village merry in my 
great hall. I allow a double quantity of malt to my 
small beer, and set it a running for twelve days to 
every one that calls for it. I have always a piece of 
cold beef and a mince-pie upon the table, and am 



28 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 

wonderfully pleased to see my tenants pass away a 
whole evening in playing their innocent tricks, and 
smutting one another. Our friend Will. Wimble is as 
merry as any of them, and shows a thousand roguish 
tricks upon these occasions.' 

I was very much delighted with the reflection of my 
old friend, which carried so much goodness in it. He 
then launched out into the praise of the late act of 
parliament for securing the Church of England, and 
told me with great satisfaction, that he believed it 
already began to take effect ; for that a rigid dis- 
senter, who chanced to dine at his house on Christmas 
day, had been observed to eat very plentifully of his 
plum-porridge. 

After having despatched all our country matters, 
Sir Roger made several inquiries concerning the club, 
and particularly of his old antagonist Sir Andrew 
Freeport. He asked me, with a kind of smile, whether 
Sir Andrew had not taken the advantage of his ab- 
sence, to vent among them some of his repubhcan 
doctrines ; but soon after gathering up his coun- 
tenance into a more than ordinary seriousness, ' Tell 
me truly,' says he, ' don't you think Sir Andrew had a 
hand in the pope's procession ' — but without giving 
me time to answer him, ' Well, well,' says he, ' I know 
you are a wary man, and do not care to talk of public 
matters.' 

The knight then asked me, if I had seen Prince 
Eugene ; and made me promise to get him a stand in 
some convenient place where he might have a full 
sight of that extraordinary man, whose presence does 
so much honour to the British nation. He dwelt very 
long on the praises of this great general, and I found 
that since I was with him in the country, he had 
drawn many observations together out of his reading 



SIR ROGER IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 29 

in Baker's Chronicle, and other authors, who always 
lie in his hall window, which very much redound to 
the honour of this prince. 

Having passed away the greatest part of the morn- 
ing in hearing the knight's reflections, which were 
partly private and partly political, he asked me if I 
would smoke a pipe with him over a dish of coffee at 
Squire's. As I love the old man, I take a delight in 
complying with everything that is agreeable to him, 
and accordingly waited on him to the coffee-house, 
where his venerable figure drew upon us the eyes of 
the whole room. He had no sooner seated himself 
at the upper end of the high table, but he called for 
a clean pipe, a paper of tobacco, a dish of coffee, a 
wax candle, and the Supplement, with such an air of 
cheerfulness and good humour that all the boys in 
the coffee-room (who seemed to take pleasure in 
serving him) were at once employed on his several 
errands, insomuch that nobody else could come at a 
dish of tea, till the knight had got all his conveniences 
about him. 



SIR ROGER IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 

My friend Sir Roger de Coverley told me the other 
night, that he had been reading my paper upon West- 
minster Abbey, in which, says he, there are a great 
many ingenious fancies. He told me at the same 
time, that he observed I had promised another paper 
upon the tombs, and that he should be glad to go and 
see them with me, not having visited them since he 
had read history. I could not at first imagine how 
this came into the knight's head, till I recollected that 



30 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 

he had been very busy all last summer upon Baker's 
Chronicle, which he has quoted several times in his 
dispute with Sir Andrew Freeport, since his last com- 
ing to town. Accordingly I called upon him the next 
morning, that we might go together to the Abbey. 

I found the knight under his butler's hands, who 
always shaves him. He was no sooner dressed, than 
he called for a glass of the widow Trueby's water, 
which he told me he always drank before he went 
abroad. He recommended to me a dram of it at the 
same time, with so much heartiness, that I could not 
forbear drinking it. As soon as I had got it down, I 
found it very unpalatable ; upon which the knight ob- 
serving that I had made several wry faces, told me 
that he knew I should not like it at first, but that it 
was the best thing in the world against the stone or 
gravel. 

I could have wished, indeed, that he had acquainted 
me with the virtues of it sooner ; but it was too late to 
complain, and I knew what he had done was out of 
good-will. Sir Roger told me further, that he looked 
upon it to be very good for a man whilst he staid in 
town, to keep off infection, and that he got together a 
quantity of it upot the first news of the sickness being 
at Dantzic : when of a sudden turning short to one of 
his servants, who stood behind him, he bid him call 
a hackney coach, and take care it was an elderly man 
that drove it. 

He then resumed his discourse upon Mrs. Trueby's 
water, telling me that the widow Trueby was one who 
did more good than all the doctors and apothecaries 
in the county : that she distilled every poppy that 
grew within five miles of her, that she distributed her 
water gratis among all sorts of people ; to which the 
knight added that she had a very great jointure, and 



SIR ROGER IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 3 1 

that the whole country would fain have it a match be- 
tween him and her; 'and truly,' says Sir Roger, 'if 
I had not been engaged, perhaps I could not have 
done better.' 

His discourse was broken off by his man's telling 
him he had called a coach. Upon our going to it, 
after having cast his eye upon the wheels, he asked 
the coachman if his axletree was good ; upon the 
fellow's telHng him he would warrant it, the knight 
turned to me, told me he looked like an honest man, 
and went in without further ceremony. 

We had not gone far, when Sir Roger, popping out 
his head, called the coachman down from his box, and 
upon his presenting himself at the window, asked him 
if he smoked ; as I was considering what this would 
end in, he bid him stop by the way at any good tobac- 
conist's, and take in a roll of their best Virginia. 
Nothing material happened in the remaining part of 
our journey, till we were set down at the west end 
of the Abbey. 

As we went up the body- of the church the knight 
pointed at the trophies upon one of the new monu- 
ments, and cried out, ' A brave man I warrant him ! ' 
Passing afterwards by Sir Cloudsly Shovel, he flung 
his hand that way, and cried, ' Sir Cloudsly Shovel ! 
a very gallant man ! ' As we stood before Busby's 
tomb, the knight uttered himself again after the same 
manner, ' Dr. Busby, a great man ! he whipped my 
grandfather ; a very great man ! I should have gone 
to him myself, if I had not been a blockhead ; a very 
great man ! ' 

We were immediately conducted into the little 
chapel on the right hand. Sir Roger planting him- 
self at our historian's elbow, was very attentive to 
everything he said, particularly to the account he 



32 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 

gave us of the lord who had cut off the king of 
Morocco's head. Among several other figures, he 
was very well pleased to see the statesman Cecil upon 
his knees ; and, concluding them all to be great men, 
was conducted to the figure which represents that 
martyr to good housewifery, who died by the prick of 
a needle. Upon our interpreter's telling us, that she 
was a maid of honour to Queen Elizabeth, the knight 
was very inquisitive into her name and family ; and 
after having regarded her finger for some time, * I 
wonder, (says he,) that Sir Richard Baker has said 
nothing of her in his Chronicle.' 

We were then conveyed to the two coronation- 
chairs, where my old friend, after having heard that 
the stone underneath the most ancient of them, which 
was brought from Scotland, was called Jacob's Pillow, 
sat himself down in the chair ; and looking like the 
figure of an old Gothic king, asked our interpreter, 
what authority they had to say that Jacob had ever 
been in Scotland? The fellow, instead of returning 
him an answer, told him, that he hoped his Honour 
would pay his forfeit. I could observe Sir Roger a 
httle ruffled upon being thus trepanned; but our guide 
not insisting upon his demand, the knight soon re- 
covered his good humour, and whispered in my ear, 
that if Will. Wimble were with us, and saw those two 
chairs, it would go hard but he would get a tobacco- 
stopper out of one or t' other of them. 

Sir Roger, in the next place, laid his hand upon 
Edward the Third's sword, and leaning upon the pum- 
mel of it, gave us the whole history of the Black 
Prince ; concluding, that in Sir Richard Baker's opin- 
ion, Edward the Third was one of the greatest princes 
that ever sat upon the English throne. 

We were then shown Edward the Confessor's tomb ; 



SIR ROGER IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 33 

Upon which Sir Roger acquainted us, that he was the 
first that touched for the Evil ; and afterwards Henry 
the Fourth's, upon which he shook his head, and told 
us, there was fine reading of the casualties of that 
reign. 

Our conductor then pointed to that monument where 
there is the figure of one of our English kings without 
an head ; and upon giving us to know, that the head, 
which was of beaten silver, had been stolen away 
several years since : ' Some Whig, I '11 warrant you, 
(says Sir Roger;) you ought to lock up your kings 
better ; they will carry off the body too, if you do not 
take care.' 

The glorious names of Henry the Fifth and Queen 
Elizabeth gave the knight great opportunities of shin- 
ing, and of doing justice to Sir Richard Baker, who, as 
our knight observed with some surprise, had a great 
many kings in him, whose monuments he had not seen 
in the Abbey. 

For my own part, I could not but be pleased to see 
the knight show such an honest passion for the glory 
of his country, and such a respectful gratitude to the 
memory of its princes. 

I must not omit, that the benevolence of my good 
old friend, which flows out towards every one he con- 
verses with, made him very kind to our interpreter, 
whom he looked upon as an extraordinary man ; for 
which reason he shook him by the hand at parting, 
telling him, that he. should be very glad to see him at 
his lodgings in Norfolk-buildings, and talk over these 
matters with him more at leisure. 



34 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 



SIR ROGER AT THE PLAY. 

My friend Sir Roger de Coverley, when we last met 
together at the club, told me, that he had a great 
mind to see the new tragedy with me, assuring me at 
the same time, that he had not been at a play these 
twenty years. The last I saw, said Sir Roger, was 
the Committee, which I should not have gone to 
neither, had not 1 been told beforehand that it was 
a good Church of England comedy. He then pro- 
ceeded to inquire of me who this Distressed Mother 
was ; and upon hearing that she was Hector's widow, 
he told me, that her husband was a brave man, and 
that when he was a school-boy he had read his life at 
the end of the dictionary. My friend asked me, in 
the next place, if there would not be some danger in 
coming home late, in case the Mohocks should be 
abroad. ' I assure you, (says he,) I thought I had 
fallen into their hands last night ; for I observed two 
or three lusty black men that followed me half way up 
Fleet Street, and mended their pace behind me, in 
proportion as I put on to go away from them. You 
must know, (continued the knight with a smile,) I 
fancied they had a mind to hunt me : for I remember 
an honest gentleman in my neighbourhood, who was 
served such a trick in King Charles the Second's time ; 
for which reason he has not ventured himself in town 
ever since. I might have shown them very good 
sport, had this been their design ; for as I am an old 
fox-hunter, I should have turned and dodged, and 
have played them a thousand tricks they had never 
seen in their lives before.' Sir Roger added, that if 
these gentlemen had any such intention, they did not 



SIR ROGER AT THE PLAY. 35 

succeed very well in it; 'for I threw them out, (says 
he,) at the end of Norfolk Street, where I doubled the 
corner, and got shelter in my lodgings before they 
could imagine what was become of me. However, 
(says the knight,) if Captain Sentry will make one 
with us to-morrow night, and if you will both of you 
call on me about four o'clock, that we may be at the 
house before it is full, I will have my own coach in 
readiness to attend you, for John tells me he has got 
the fore-wheels mended.' 

The captain, who did not fail to meet me there at 
the appointed hour, bid Sir Roger fear nothing, for 
that he had put on the same sword which he had 
made use of at the battle of Steenkirk. Sir Roger's 
servants, and among the rest my old friend the butler, 
had, I found, provided themselves with good oaken 
plants, to attend their master upon this occasion. 
When we had placed him in his coach, with myself 
at his left hand, the captain before him, and his butler 
at the head of his footmen in the rear, we convoyed 
him in safety to the play-house ; where, after having 
marched up the entry in good order, the captain and 
I went in with him, and seated him betwixt us in the 
pit. As soon as the house was full, and the candles 
lighted, my old friend stood up and looked about him 
with that pleasure, which a mind seasoned with 
humanity naturally feels in itself, at the sight of a 
multitude of people who seemed pleased with one 
another, and partake of the same common entertain- 
ment. I could not but fancy to myself, as the old man 
stood up in the middle of the pit, that he made a very 
proper centre to a tragic audience. Upon the entering 
of Pyrrhus, the knight told me, that he did not believe 
the King of France himself had a better strut. I was, 
indeed, very attentive to my old friend's remarks, 



36 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 

because I looked upon them as a piece of natural 
criticism, and was well pleased to hear him at the 
conclusion of almost every scene, telling me that he 
could not imagine how the play would end. One 
while he appeared much concerned about Andromache ; 
and a little while after as much for Hermione : and 
was extremely puzzled to think what would become of 
Pyrrhus. 

When Sir Roger saw Andromache's obstinate refusal 
to her lover's importunities, he whispered me in the 
ear, that he was sure she would never have him ; to 
which he added, with a more than ordinary vehemence, 
you cannot imagine, sir, what it is to have to do with 
a widow. Upon Pyrrhus his threatening afterwards 
to leave her, the knight shook his head, and muttered 
to himself, Ay, do if you can. This part dwelt so 
much upon my friend's imagination, that at the close 
of the third act, as I was thinking of something else, 
he whispered in my ear, * These widows, sir, are the 
most perverse creatures in the world. But pray, (says 
he,) you that are a critic, is this play according to 
your dramatic rules, as you call them ? Should your 
people in tragedy always talk to be understood ? Why, 
there is not a single sentence in this play that I do 
not know the meaning of.' 

The fourth act very luckily begun before I had time 
to give the old gentleman an answer ; ' Well, (says 
the knight, sitting down with great satisfaction,) I sup- 
pose we are now to see Hector's ghost.' He then 
renewed his attention, and, from time to time fell a 
praising the widow. He made, indeed, a Httle mis- 
take as to one of her pages, whom, at his first entering, 
he took for Astyanax ; but he quickly set himself right 
in that particular, though, at the same time, he owned 
he should have been very glad to have seen the little 



SIR ROGER AT THE PLAY. 3/ 

boy, ' who,' says he, ' must needs be a very fine child 
by the account that is given of him.' Upon Hermi- 
one's going off with a menace to Pyrrhus, the audience 
gave a loud clap ; to which Sir Roger added, ' On my 
word, a notable young baggage ! ' 

As there was a very remarkable silence and stillness 
m the audience during the whole action, it was natural 
for them to take the opportunity of the intervals 
between the acts, to express their opinion of the 
players, and of their respective parts. Sir Roger 
hearing a cluster of them praise Orestes, struck in 
with them, and told them, that he thought his friend 
Pylades was a very sensible man ; as they were after- 
wards applauding Pyrrhus, Sir Roger put in a second 
time, ' And let me tell you, (says he,) though he speaks 
but little, I like the old fellow in whiskers as well as 
any of them.' Captain Sentry, seeing two or three 
wags who sat near us, lean with an attentive ear 
towards Sir Roger, and fearing lest they should smoke 
the knight, plucked him by the elbow, and whispered 
something in his ear, that lasted till the opening of 
the fifth act. The knight was wonderfully attentive 
to the account which Orestes gives of Pyrrhus his 
death, and at the conclusion of it, told me it was such 
a bloody piece of work, that he was glad it was not 
done upon the stage. Seeing afterwards Orestes in 
his raving fit, he grew more than ordinary serious, and 
took occasion to moralize (in his way) upon an evil 
conscience, adding, that ' Orestes, in his madness, 
looked as if he saw something.' 

As we were the first that came into the house, so 
we were the last that went out of it ; being resolved 
to have a clear passage for our old friend, whom we 
did not care to venture among the justling of the 
crowd. Sir Roger went out fully satisfied with his 



38 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 

entertainment, and we guarded him to his lodgings in 
the same manner that we brought him to the play- 
house ; being highly pleased, for my own part, not 
only with the performance of the excellent piece which 
had been presented, but with the satisfaction which it 
had given to the good old man. 



SIR ROGER AT VAUXHALL. 

As I was sitting in my chamber, and thinking on a 
subject for my next Spectator, I heard two or three 
irregular bounces at my landlady's door, and upon the 
opening of it, a loud cheerful voice inquiring whether 
the philosopher was at home. The child who went to 
the door answered very innocently, that he did not 
lodge there. I immediately recollected that it was 
my good friend Sir Roger's voice; and that I had 
promised to go with him on the water to Spring- 
Garden, in case it proved a good evening. The 
knight put me in mind of my promise from the stair- 
case, but told me that if I was speculating, he would 
stay below till I had done. Upon my coming down, 
I found all the children of the family got about my 
old friend, and my landlady herself, who is a notable 
prating gossip, engaged in a conference with him ; 
being mightily pleased with his stroking her little boy 
upon the head, and bidding him be a good child, and 
mind his book. 

We were no sooner come to the Temple- stairs, but 
we were surrounded with a crowd of watermen, offer- 
ing their respective services. Sir Roger, after having 
looked about him very attentively, spied one with a 
wooden leg, and immediately gave him orders to get 



/ 

SIR ROGER AT VAUXHALL. 39 

his boat ready. As we were walking towards it, * You 
must know (says Sir Roger), I never make use of 
anybody to row me that has not either lost a leg or 
an arm. I would rather bate him a few strokes of his 
oar, than not employ an honest man that has been 
wounded in the Queen's service. If I was a lord or a 
bishop, and kept a barge, I would not put a fellow in 
my livery that had not a wooden leg.' 

My old friend, after having seated himself, and 
trimmed the boat with his coachman, who, being a 
very sober man, always serves for ballast on these 
occasions, we made the best of our way for Fox-hall. 
Sir Roger obliged the waterman to give us the history 
of his right leg, and hearing that he had left it at La 
Hogue, with many particulars which passed in that 
glorious action, the knight in the triumph of his heart 
made several reflections on the greatness of the 
British nation ; as, that one Englishman could beat 
three Frenchmen ; that we could never be in danger 
of Popery so long as we took care of our fleet ; that 
the Thames was the noblest river in Europe ; that 
London bridge was a greater piece of work than any 
other of the seven wonders of the world ; with many 
other honest prejudices which naturally cleave to the 
heart of a true Englishman. 

After some short pause, the old knight, turning 
about his head twice or thrice to take a survey of this 
great metropolis, bid me observe how thick the city 
was set with churches, and that there was scarce a 
single steeple on this side Temple-bar. ' A most 
heathenish sight ! (says Sir Roger) : There is no re- 
Hgion at this end of the town. The fifty new churches 
will very much mend the prospect; but church-work 
is slow, church-work is slow ! ' 

I do not remember I have anywhere mentioned in 



\ 

40 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 

Sir Roger's character, his custom of saluting every- 
body that passes by him with a good-morrow or a 
good-night. This the old man does out of the over- 
flowings of humanity, though at the same time it 
renders him so popular among all his country neigh- 
bours, that it is thought to have gone a good way in 
making him once or twice knight of the shire. He 
cannot forbear this exercise of benevolence even in 
town, when he meets with any one in his morning or 
evening walk. It broke from him to several boats 
that passed by us upon the water ; but to the knight's 
great surprise, as he gave the good-night to two or 
three young fellows a httle before our landing, one of 
them, instead of returning the civility, asked us what 
queer old put we had in the boat, and whether he was 
not ashamed to go a wenching at his years? with a 
great deal of the like Thames ribaldry. Sir Roger 
seemed a little shocked at first, but at length assum- 
ing a face of magistracy, told us, ' that if he were a 
Middlesex justice, he would make such vagrants know 
that her Majesty's subjects were no more to be abused 
by water than by land.' 

We were now arrived at Spring- Garden, which is 
exquisitely pleasant at this time of year. When I 
considered the fragrancy of the walks and bowers, 
with the choirs of birds that sung upon the trees, 
and the loose tribe of people that walked under their 
shades, I could not but look upon the place as a kind 
of Mahometan paradise. Sir Roger told me it put 
him in mind of a Httle coppice by his house in the 
country, which his chaplain used to call an aviary of 
nightingales. ' You must understand (says the knight), 
there is nothing in the world that pleases a man in 
love so much as your nightingale. Ah, Mr. Spec- 
tator ! the many moonhght nights that I have 



DEATH OF SIR ROGER. 4 1 

walked by myself, and thought on the widow by the 
music of the nightingale ! ' He here fetched a deep 
sigh, and was falling into a fit of musing, when a 
mask, who came behind him, gave him a gentle tap 
upon the shoulder, and asked him if he would drink 
a bottle of mead with her? But the knight being 
startled at so unexpected a familiarity, and displeased 
to be interrupted in his thoughts of the widow, told 
her, ' She was a wanton baggage,' and bid her go 
about her business. 

We concluded our walk with a glass of Burton ale, 
and a slice of hung-beef. When we had done eating 
ourselves, the knight called a waiter to him, and bid 
him carry the remainder to a waterman that had but 
one leg. I perceived the fellow stared upon him at 
the oddness of the message, and was going to be 
saucy ; upon which I ratified the knight's commands 
with a peremptory look. 

As we were going out of the garden my old friend, 
thinking himself obliged, as a member of the Quorum, 
to animadvert upon the morals of the place, told the 
mistress of the house, who sat at the bar, ' that he 
should be a better customer to her garden, if there 
were more nightingales and fewer strumpets.' 



DEATH OF SIR ROGER. 

We last night received a piece of ill news at our 
club, which very sensibly afflicted every one of us. 
I question not but my readers themselves will be 
troubled at the hearing of it. To keep them no longer 
in suspense. Sir Roger de Coverley is dead. He 
departed this hfe at his house in the country, after a 



42 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 

few weeks' sickness. Sir Andrew Freeport has a letter 
from one of his correspondents in those parts, that 
informs him the old man caught a cold at the country 
sessions, as he was very warmly promoting an address 
of his own penning, in which he succeeded according 
to his wishes. But this particular comes from a Whig 
justice of peace, who was always Sir Roger's enemy 
and antagonist. I have letters both from the chaplain 
and Captain Sentry, which mention nothing of it, but 
are filled with many particulars to the honour of the 
good old man. I have likewise a letter from the 
butler, who took so much care of me last summer 
when I was at the knight's house. As my friend the 
butler mentions, in the simplicity of his heart, several 
circumstances the others have passed over in silence, 
I shall give my reader a copy of his letter, without any 
alteration or diminution. 



Honoured Sir, 

Knowing that you was my old master's good 
friend, I could not forbear sending you the melancholy 
news of his death, which has afflicted the whole country, 
as well as his poor servants, who loved him, I may say, 
better than we did our lives. I am afraid he caught his 
death the last country sessions, where he would go to see 
justice done to a poor widow woman, and her fatherless 
children, that had been wronged by a neighbouring gentle- 
man ; for you know, my good master was always the poor 
man's friend. Upon his coming home, the first complaint 
he made was, that he had lost his roast-beef stomach, not 
being able to touch a sirloin, which was served up accord- 
ing to custom : and you know he used to take great 
delight in it. From that time forward he grew worse and 
worse, but still kept a good heart to the last. Indeed we 
were once in great hopes of his recovery, upon a kind 
message that was sent him from the widow lady whom he 
had made love to the forty last years of his life ; but this 



DEATH OF SIR ROGER. 43 

only proved a lightning before his death. He has be- 
queathed to this lady, as a token of his love, a great pearl 
necklace, and a couple of silver bracelets set with jewels, 
which belonged to my good old lady his mother: he 
has bequeathed the fine white gelding, that he used to 
ride a hunting upon, to his chaplain, because he thought 
he would be kind to him, and has left you all his books. 
He has, moreover, bequeathed to the chaplain a very pretty 
tenement with good lands about it. It being a very cold day 
when he made his will, he left for mourning, to every man 
in the parish, a great frieze coat, and to every woman a 
black riding-hood. It was a most moving sight to see him 
take leave of his poor servants, commending us all for our 
fidelity, whilst we were not able to speak a word for weep- 
ing. As we most of us are grown grey-headed in our dear 
master's service, he has left us pensions and legacies which 
we may live very comfortably upon the remaining part of our 
days. He has bequeathed a great deal more in charity, 
which is not yet come to my knowledge, and it is peremp- 
torily said in the parish, that he has left money to build a 
steeple to the church : for he was heard to say some time 
ago, that if he lived two years longer, Coverley church 
should have a steeple to it. The chaplain tells everybody 
that he made a very good end, and never speaks of him 
without tears. He was buried, according to his own di- 
rections, among the family of the Coverlies, on the left 
hand of his father Sir Arthur. The coffin was carried by 
six of his tenants, and the pall held up by six of the 
quorum : the whole parish followed the corpse with 
heavy hearts, and in their mourning suits ; the men in 
frieze, and the women in riding-hoods. Captain Sentry, 
my master's nephew, has taken possession of the hall- 
house, and the whole estate. When my old master saw him, a 
httle before his death, he shook him by the hand, and 
wished him joy of the estate which was falling to him, 
desiring him only to make a good use of it, and to pay the 
several legacies, and the gifts of charity, which he told him 
he had left as quit-rents upon the estate. The captain 
truly seems a courteous man, though says but little. He 
makes much of those whom my master loved, and shows 



44 SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. 

great kindness to the old house-dog, that you know my 
poor master was so fond of. It would have gone to your 
heart to have heard the moans the dumb creature made on 
the day of my master's death. He has never joyed him- 
self since ; no more has any of us. It was the melancholiest 
day for the poor people that ever happened in Worcester- 
shire. This being all from, 

Honoured sir, your most sorrowful servant, 
Edward Biscuit. 

P.S. My master desired, some weeks before he died, 
that a book which comes up to you by the carrier, should 
be given to Sir Andrew Freeport in his name. 

This letter, notwithstanding the poor butler's man- 
ner of writing it, gave us such an idea of our good old 
friend, that, upon the reading of it, there was not a 
dry eye in the club. Sir Andrew opening the book, 
found it to be a collection of acts of parliament. There 
was, in particular, the act of uniformity, with some 
passages in it marked by Sir Roger's own hand. Sir 
Andrew found that they related to two or three points, 
which he had disputed with Sir Roger the last time 
he appeared at the club. Sir Andrew, who would have 
been merry at such an incident on another occasion, 
at the sight of the old man's handwriting, burst into 
tears, and put the book into his pocket. Captain 
Sentry informs me, that the knight has left rings and 
mourning for every one in the club. 



THE TATLER'S COURT. 



TRIAL OF THE DEAD IN REASON. 

As soon as I had placed myself in the chair of judica- 
ture, I ordered my clerk Mr. Lillie to read to the 
assembly (who were gathered together according 
to notice) a certain declaration, by way of charge, to 
open the purpose of my session, which tended only to 
this explanation, * That as other courts were often called 
to demand the execution of persons dead in law, so this 
was held to give the last orders relating to those who 
are dead in reason.' The solicitor of the new company 
of upholders, near the Hay-market, appeared in behalf 
of that useful society, and brought in an accusation of 
a young woman, who herself stood at the bar before 
me. Mr. Lilhe read her indictment, which was in sub- 
stance, 'That whereas Mrs. Rebecca Pindust, of the 
parish of St. Martin in the Fields, had, by the use of 
one instrument called a looking-glass, and by the fur- 
ther use of certain attire, made either of cambric, mus- 
lin, or other linen wares, upon her head, attained to 
such an evil heart and magical force in the motion of 
her eyes and turn of her countenance, that she, the 
said Rebecca, had put to death several young men of 
the said parish ; and that the said young men had ac- 
knowledged in certain papers, commonly called love- 
letters, (which were produced in court gilded on the 
edges, and sealed with a particular wax, with certain 

45 



46 THE tatler's court. 

amorous and enchanting words wrought upon the said 
seals,) that they died for the said Rebecca : and 
whereas the said Rebecca persisted in the said evil 
practice ; this way of life the said society construed to 
be, according to former edicts, a state of death, and 
demanded an order for the interment of the said 
Rebecca.' 

I looked upon the maid with great humanity, and 
desired her to make answer to what was said against 
her. She said, ' it was indeed true, that she had prac- 
tised all the arts and means she could to dispose of 
herself happily in marriage, but thought she did not 
come under the censure expressed in my writings for 
the same ; and humbly hoped I would not condemn 
her for the ignorance of her accusers, who, according 
to their own words, had rather represented her killing, 
than dead.' She further alleged, ' That the expressions 
mentioned in the papers written to her, were become 
mere words, and that she had been always ready to 
marry any of those who said they died for her ; but 
that they made their escape as soon as they found 
themselves pitied or believed.' She ended her dis- 
course, by desiring I would, for the future, settle the 
meaning of the words, ' I die,' in letters of love. 

Mrs. Pindust behaved herself with such an air of 
innocence, that she easily gained credit, and was ac- 
quitted. Upon which occasion, I gave it as a standing 
rule, ' That any persons, who in any letter, billet, or 
discourse, should tell a woman he died for her, should, 
if she pleased, be obliged to live with her, or be im- 
mediately interred upon such their own confession, 
without bail or mainprize.' 

It happened, that the very next who was brought 
before me was one of her admirers, who was indicted 
upon that very head. A letter, which he acknowledged 



TRIAL OF THE DEAD IN REASON. 47 

to be his own hand, was read ; in which were the 
following words ; ' Cruel creature, I die for you.' It 
was observable, that he took snuff all the time his ac- 
cusation was reading. I asked him, ' How he came 
to use these words, if he were not a dead man?' He 
told me, ' He was in love with a lady, and did not know 
any other way of telling her so ; and that all his ac- 
quaintance took the same method.' Though I was 
moved with compassion towards him., by reason of the 
weakness of his parts, yet, for example's sake, I was 
forced to answer, 'Your sentence shall be a warning 
to all the rest of your companions, not to tell lies for 
want of wit.' Upon this, he began to beat his snuff- 
box with a very saucy air ; and opening it again, 'Faith 
Isaac, (said he,) thou art a very unaccountable old 
fellow. — Prythee, who gave thee power of hfe and 
death? What a pox hast thou to do with ladies and 
lovers? I suppose thou wouldst have a man be in 
company with his mistress, and say nothing to her. 
Dost thou call breaking a jest, telling a lie ? Ha ! is 
that thy wisdom, old Stiffrump, ha?' He was going 
on with this insipid common-place mirth, sometimes 
opening his box, sometimes shutting it, then viewing 
the picture on the lid, and then the workmanship of the 
hinge, when, in the midst of his eloquence, I ordered 
his box to be taken from him ; upon which he was im- 
mediately struck speechless, and carried off stone dead. 
The next who appeared, was a hale old fellow of 
sixty. He was brought in by his relations, who desired 
leave to bury him. Upon requiring a distinct account 
of the prisoner, a credible witness deposed, ' That he 
always rose at ten of the clock, played with his cat 
till twelve, smoked tobacco till one, was at dinner till 
two, then took another pipe, played at backgammon 
till six, talked of one Madam Frances, an old mistress 



48 THE tatler's court. 

of his, till eight, repeated the same account at the 
tavern till ten, then returned home, took the other 
pipe, and then to bed.' I asked him, what he had to 
say for himself ? * As to what (said he) they mention 
concerning Madam Frances — ' I did not care for 
hearing a Canterbury tale, and therefore thought 
myself seasonably interrupted by a young gentleman 
who appeared in behalf of the old man, and prayed an 
arrest of judgment ; for that he the said young man 
held certain lands by his the said old man's hfe. Upon 
this, the soHcitor of the upholders took an occasion 
to demand him also, and thereupon produced several 
evidences that witnessed to his life and conversation. 
It appeared, that each of them divided their hours in 
matters of equal moment and importance to them- 
selves and to the pubhc. They rose at the same hour : 
while the old man was playing with his cat, the young 
one was looking out of his window ; while the old man 
was smoking his pipe, the young man was rubbing 
his teeth ; while one was at dinner, the other was 
dressing ; while one was at backgammon, the other 
was at dinner ; while the old fellow was talking of 
Madam Frances, the young one was either at play, or 
toasting women whom he never conversed with. The 
only diiference was, that the young man had never 
been good for anything ; the old man, a man of worth 
before he knew Madam Frances. Upon the whole, 
I ordered them to be both interred together, with in- 
scriptions proper to their characters, signifying, ' That 
the old man died in the year 1689, and was buried in 
the year 1 709.' And over the young one it was said, 
*That he departed this world in twenty-fifth year of 
his death.' 

The next class of criminals were authors in prose 
and verse. Those of them who had produced any 



TRIAL OF THE PETTICOAT. 49 

Still-born work, were immediately dismissed to their 
burial, and were followed by others, who, notwith- 
standing some sprightly issue in their life-time, had 
given proofs of their death, by some posthumous 
children, that bore no resemblance to their elder 
brethren. As for those who were the fathers of a 
mixed progeny, provided always they could prove the 
last to be a live child, they escaped with life, but not 
without loss of limbs ; for in this case, I was satisfied 
with amputation of the parts which were mortified. 

These were followed by a great crowd of super- 
annuated benchers of the inns of court, senior fellows 
of colleges, and defunct statesmen ; all whom I ordered 
to be decimated indifferently, allowing the rest a 
reprieve for one year, with a promise of a free pardon 
in case of resuscitation. 

There were still great multitudes to be examined ; 
but finding it very late, I adjourned the court ; not 
without the secret pleasure that I had done my duty, 
and furnished out an handsome execution. 



TRIAL OF THE PETTICOAT. 

The court being prepared for proceeding on the 
cause of the petticoat, I gave orders to bring in a 
criminal who was taken up as she went out of the 
puppet-show about three nights ago, and was now 
standing in the street with a great concourse of 
people about her. Word was brought me, that she 
had endeavoured twice or thrice to come in, but could 
not do it by reason of her petticoat, which was too 
large for the entrance of my house, though I had 
ordered both the folding-doors to be thrown open 



50 THE TATLER's COURT. 

for its reception. Upon this, I desired the jury of 
matrons, who stood at my right hand, to inform them- 
selves of her condition, and know whether there were 
any private reasons why she might not make her 
appearance separate from her petticoat. This was 
managed with great discretion, and had such an 
effect, that upon the return of the verdict from the 
bench of matrons, I issued out an order forthwith, 
that the criminal should be stripped of her encum- 
brances, till she became little enough to enter my 
house. I had before given directions for an engine of 
several legs, that could contract or open itself like the 
top of an umbrella, in order to place the petticoat 
upon it, by which means I might take a leisurely 
survey of it, as it should appear in its proper dimen- 
sions. This was all done accordingly ; and forthwith, 
upon the closing of the engine, the petticoat was 
brought into court. I then directed the machine to 
be set upon the table, and dilated in such a manner, 
as to show the garment in its utmost circumference ; 
but my great hall was too narrow for the experiment; 
for before it was half unfolded, it described so immod- 
erate a circle, that the lower part of it brushed upon 
my face as I sat in my chair of judicature. I then 
inquired for the person that belonged to the petticoat ; 
and, to my great surprise, was directed to a very 
beautiful young damsel, with so pretty a face and 
shape, that I bid her come out of the crowd, and 
seated her upon a Uttle crock at my left hand. * My 
pretty maid, (said I,) do you own yourself to have been 
the inhabitant of the garment before us?' The girl 
I found had good sense, and told me with a smile, 
'That notwithstanding it was her own petticoat, she 
should be very glad to see an example made of it ; 
and that she wore it for no other reason, but that she 



TRIAL OF THE PETTICOAT. 5 1 

had a mind to look as big and burly as other persons 
of her quality : that she had kept out of it as long as 
she could, and till she began to appear little in the 
eyes of all her acquaintance ; that if she laid it aside, 
people would think she was not made Hke other 
women.' I always give great allowances to the fair 
sex upon account of the fashion, and therefore was 
not displeased with the defence of the pretty criminal. 
I then ordered the vest which stood before us to be 
drawn up by a pulley to the top of my great hall, 
and afterwards to be spread open by the engine it 
was placed upon, in such a manner, that it formed a 
very splendid and ample canopy over our heads, and 
covered the whole court of judicature with a kind of 
silken rotunda, in its form not unlike the cupola of 
St. Paul's. I entered upon the whole cause with 
great satisfaction, as I sat under the shadow of it. 

The counsel for the petticoat was now called in, 
And ordered to produce what they had to say against 
the popular cry which was raised against it. They 
answered the objections with great strength and 
solidity of argument, and expatiated in very florid 
harangues, which they did not fail to set off and 
furbelow (if I may be allowed the metaphor) with 
many periodical sentences and turns of oratory. The 
chief arguments for their client were taken, first, from 
the great benefit that might arise to our woollen 
manufactory from this invention, which was calculated 
as follows : the common petticoat has not above four 
yards in the circumference ; whereas this over our 
heads had more in the semi-diameter : so that by 
allowing it twenty-four yards in the circumference, the 
five millions of woollen petticoats, which, according to 
Sir WilHam Petty, (supposing what ought to be sup- 
posed in a well-governed state, that all petticoats are 



5.2 THE TATLER's COURT. 

made of that stuff,) would amount to thirty millions 
of those of the ancient mode. A prodigious improve- 
ment of the woollen trade ! and what could not fail to 
sink the power of France in a few years. 

To introduce the second argument, they begged 
leave to read a petition of the rope- makers, wherein 
it was represented, that the demand for cords, and 
the price of them, were much risen since this fashion 
came up. At this, all the company who were present 
lifted up their eyes into the vault; and I must con- 
fess, we did discover many traces of cordage which 
were interwoven in the stiffening of the drapery. 

A third argument was founded upon a petition of 
the Greenland trade, which Hkewise represented the 
great consumption of whalebone which would be occa- 
sioned by the present fashion, and the benefit which 
would thereby accrue to that branch of the British 
trade. 

To conclude, they gently touched upon the weight 
and unwieldiness of the garment, which they insinu- 
ated might be of great use to preserve the honour of 
families. 

These arguments would have wrought very much 
upon me, (as I then told the company in a long and 
elaborate discourse,) had I not considered the great 
and additional expense which such fashions would 
bring upon fathers and husbands ; and therefore by 
no means to be thought of till some years after a peace. 
I further urged, that it would be a prejudice to the 
ladies themselves, who could never expect to have any 
money in the pocket, if they laid out so much on the 
petticoat. To this I added, the great temptation it 
might give to virgins, of acting in security like married 
women, and by that means give a check to matrimony, 
an institution always encouraged by wise societies. 



TRIAL OF THE PETTICOAT. 53 

At the same time, in answer to the several petitions 
produced on that side, I showed one subscribed by 
the women of several persons of quality, humbly set- 
ting forth, that since the introduction of this mode, 
their respective ladies had (instead of bestowing on 
them their cast gowns) cut them into- shreds, and 
mixed them with the cordage and buckram, to com- 
plete the stiffening of their under-petticoats. For 
which, and sundry other reasons, I pronounced the 
petticoat a forfeiture : but to show that I did not 
make that judgment for the sake of filthy lucre, I 
ordered it to be folded up, and sent it as a present to 
a widow gentlewoman, who has five daughters, desir- 
ing she would make each of them a petticoat out of 
it, and send me back the remainder, which I design 
to cut into stomachers, caps, facings of my waistcoat 
sleeves, and other garnitures suitable to my age and 
quaUty. 

I would not be understood, that (while I discard this 
monstrous invention) I am an enemy to the proper or- 
naments of the fair sex. On the contrary, as the hand 
of nature has poured on them such a profusion of 
charms and graces, and sent them into the world more 
amiable and finished than the rest of her works ; so I 
would have them bestow upon themselves all the ad- 
ditional beauties that art can supply them with, pro- 
vided it does not interfere with, disguise, or pervert, 
those of nature. 

I consider woman as a beautiful romantic animal, 
that may be adorned with furs and feathers, pearls and 
diamonds, ores and silks. The lynx shall cast its 
skin at her feet to make her a tippet ; the peacock, 
parrot, and swan shall pay contributions to her muff; 
the sea shall be searched for shells, and the rocks 
for gems ; and every part of nature furnish out its share 



54 THE tatler's court. 

towards the embellishment of a creature that is the 
most consummate work of it. All this I shall indulge 
them in ; but as for the petticoat I have been speak- 
ing of, I neither can nor will allow it. 



TRIAL OF THE WINE-BREWERS. 

There is in this city a certain fraternity of chymical 
operators, who work under ground in holes, caverns, 
and dark retirements, to conceal their mysteries from 
the eyes and observation of mankind. These subter- 
raneous philosophers are daily employed in the trans- 
migration of liquors, and, by the power of medical 
drugs and incantations, raising under the streets of 
London the choicest products of the hills and valleys 
of France. They can squeeze Bordeaux out of a sloe, 
and draw Champagne from an apple. Virgil, in that 
remarkable prophecy, 

Incultisque rubens pendebit sentibus Uva, 
' The ripening grape shall hang on every thorn,' 

seems to have hinted at this art, which can turn a plan- 
tation of northern hedges into a vineyard. These 
adepts are known among one another by the name of 
wine-brewers, and I am afraid do great injury, not 
only to her Majesty's customs, but to the bodies of 
many of her good subjects. 

Having received sundry complaints against these 
invisible workmen, I ordered the proper officer of my 
court to ferret them out of their respective caves, and 
bring them before me, which was yesterday executed 
accordingly. 



TRIAL OF THE WINE-BREWERS. 55 

The person who appeared against them was a mer- 
chant, who had by him a great magazine of wines that 
he had laid in before the war : but these gentlemen 
(as he said) had so vitiated the nation's palate, that no 
man could believe his to be French, because it did not 
taste like what they sold for such. As a man never 
pleads better than where his own personal interest is 
concerned, he exhibited to the court with great elo- 
quence, That this new corporation of druggists had 
inflamed the bills of mortahty, and puzzled the college 
of physicians with diseases, for which they neither 
knew a name or cure. He accused some of giving all 
their customers cholics and megrims ; and mentioned 
one who had boasted, he had a tun of claret by him, 
that in a fortnight's time should give the gout to a 
dozen of the healthfuUest men in the city, provided 
that their constitutions were prepared for it by wealth 
and idleness. He then enlarged, with a great show of 
reason, upon the prejudice which these mixtures and 
compositions had done to the brains of the English 
nation ; as is too visible (said he) from many late 
pamphlets, speeches, and sermons, as well as from 
the ordinary conversations of the youth of this age. 
He then quoted an ingenious person, who would under- 
take to know by a man's writings, the wine he most 
delighted in ; and on that occasion named a certain 
satirist, whom he had discovered to be the author of a 
lampoon, by a manifest taste of the sloe, which showed 
itself in it by much roughness and little spirit. 

In the last place, he ascribed to the unnatural 
tumults and fermentations, which these mixtures raise 
in our blood, the divisions, heats, and animosities that 
reign among us ; and in particular, asserted most of 
the modern enthusiasms and agitations to be nothing 
else but the effects of adulterated port. 



56 THE tatler's court. 

The counsel for the brewers had a face so extremely 
inflamed and illummated with carbuncles, that I did 
not wonder to see him an advocate for these sophis- 
tications. His rhetoric was likewise such as I should 
have expected from the common draught, which I 
found he often drank to a great excess. Indeed, I 
was so surprised at his figure and parts, that I ordered 
him to give me a taste of his usual liquor ; which 
1 had no sooner drank, but I found a pimple rising in 
my forehead ; and felt such a sensible decay in my 
understanding, that I would not proceed in the trial 
till the fume of it was entirely dissipated. 

This notable advocate had httle to say in the defence 
of his clients, but that they were under a necessity of 
making claret if they would keep open their doors, it 
being the nature of mankind to love everything that 
is prohibited. He further pretended to reason, that 
it might be as profitable to the nation to make French 
wine as French hats, and concluded with the great 
advantage that this had already brought to part of the 
kingdom. Upon which he informed the court, ' That 
the lands in Herefordshire were raised two years ' 
purchase since the beginning of the war.' 

When I had sent out my summons to these people, 
I gave at the same time orders to each of them to 
bring the several ingredients he made use of in dis- 
tinct phials, which they had done accordingly, and 
ranged them into two rows on each side of the court. 
The workmen were drawn up in ranks behind them. 
The merchant informed me, that in one row of phials 
were the several colours they dealt in, and in the other 
the tastes. He then showed me on the right hand one 
who went by the name of Tom Tintoret, who (as he 
told me) was the greatest master in his colouring of 
any vintner in London. To give me a proof of his 



TRIAL OF THE WINE-BREWERS. 5/ 

art, he took a glass of fair water ; and by the infusion 
of three drops out of one of his phials, converted it into 
a most beautiful pale Burgundy. Two more of the 
same kind heightened it into a perfect Languedoc : 
from thence it passed into a florid Hermitage : and 
after having gone through two or three other changes, 
by the addition of a single drop, ended in a very deep 
Pontac. This ingenious virtuoso, seeing me very much 
surprised at his art, told me. That he had not an oppor- 
tunity of showing it in perfection, having only made 
use of water for the ground- work of his colouring ; 
but that if I were to see an operation upon liquors of 
stronger bodies, the art would appear to much greater 
advantage. He added, 'That he doubted not but it 
would please my curiosity to see the cider of one 
apple take only a vermilion, when another, with a less 
quantity of the same infusion, would rise into a dark 
purple, according to the different texture of parts in the 
liquor.' He informed me also, ' That he could hit the 
different shades and degrees of red, as they appear 
in the pink and the rose, the clove and the carnation, 
as he had Rhenish or Moselle, Perry or White Port, to 
work in.' 

I was so satisfied with the ingenuity of this virtuoso, 
that, after having advised him to quit so dishonest a 
profession, I promised him, in consideration of his 
great genius, to recommend him as a partner to a 
friend of mine, who has heaped up great riches, and is 
a scarlet dyer. 

The artists on my other hand were ordered in the 
second place to make some experiments of their skill 
before me : upon which the famous Harry Sippet stept 
out, and asked me, ' What I would be pleased to 
drink?' At the same time he filled out three or four 
white Hquors in a glass, and told me, ' That it should 



58 THE tatler's court. 

be what I pleased to call for ; ' adding very learnedly, 
' That the liquor before him was as the naked sub- 
stance or first matter of his compound, to which he 
and his friend, who stood over against him, could give 
what accidents or form they pleased.' Finding him 
so great a philosopher, I desired he would convey into 
it the qualities and essence of right Bordeaux. 
' Coming, coming, sir,' (said he,) with the air of a 
drawer ; and after having cast his eye on the several 
tastes and flavours that stood before him, he took up 
a Httle cruet that was filled with a kind of inky juice, 
and pouring some of it out into the glass of white 
wine, presented it to me, and told me, * This was the 
wine over which most of the business of the last term 
had been despatched.' I must confess, I looked upon 
that sooty drug which he held up in his cruet, as the 
quintessence of English Bordeaux, and therefore de- 
sired him to give me a glass of it by itself, which he 
did with great unwillingness. My cat at that time sat 
by me, upon the elbow of my chair ; and as I did not 
care for making the experiment upon myself, I reached 
it to her to sip of it, which had like to have cost her 
her Hfe ; for notwithstanding it flung her at first into 
freakish tricks, quite contrary to her usual gravity, 
in less than a quarter of an hour she fell into convul- 
sions ; and had it not been a creature more tenacious 
of hfe than any other, would certainly have died under 
the operation. 

I was so incensed by the tortures of my innocent 
domestic, and the unworthy dealings of these men, 
that I told them, if each of them had as many lives 
as the injured creature before them, they deserved to 
forfeit them for the pernicious arts which they used 
for their profit. I therefore bid them look upon them- 
selves as no better than a kind of assassins and mur- 



TRIAL OF THE WINE-BREWERS. 59 

derers within the law. However, since they had dealt 
so clearly with me, and laid before me their whole 
practice, I dismissed them for that time ; with a par- 
ticular request. That they would not poison any of my 
friends and acquaintance, and take to some honest 
livelihood without loss of time. 

For my own part, I have resolved hereafter to be very 
careful in my liquors, and have agreed with a friend of 
mine in the army, upon their next march, to secure me 
two hogsheads of the best stomach-wine in the cellars 
of Versailles, for the good of my lucubrations, and the 
comfort of my old age. 



STATESWOMEN. 



PARTY PATCHES. 



About the middle of last winter I went to see an 
opera at the theatre in the Haymarket, where I could 
not but take notice of two parties of very fine women, 
that had placed themselves in the opposite side 
boxes, and seemed drawn up in a kind of battle-array 
one against another. After a short survey of them, I 
found they were patched differently; the faces, on 
one hand, being spotted on the right side of the fore- 
head, and those upon the other on the left : I quickly 
perceived that they cast hostile glances upon one 
another ; and that their patches were placed in those 
different situations, as party-signals to distinguish 
friends from foes. In the middle boxes, between 
these two opposite bodies, were several ladies who 
patched indifferendy on both sides of their faces, and 
seemed to sit there with no other intention but to see 
the opera. Upon inquiry I found, that the body of 
Amazons on my right hand were Whigs, and those 
on my left, Tories; and that those who had placed 
themselves in the middle boxes were a neutral party, 
whose faces had not yet declared themselves. These 
last, however, as I afterwards found, diminished daily, 
and took their party with one side or the other; 
insomuch that I observed in several of them, the 
60 



PARTY PATCHES. 6l 

patches, which were before dispersed equally, are 
now all gone over to the Whig or the Tory side of 
the face. The censorious say, that the men whose 
hearts are aimed at, are very often the occasions that 
one part of the face is thus dishonoured, and lies 
under a kind of disgrace, while the other is so much 
set ofif and adorned by the owner ; and that the 
patches turn to the right or to the left, according to 
the principles of the man who is most in favour. But 
whatever may be the motives of a few fantastical 
coquettes, who do not patch for the public good so 
much as for their own private advantage, it is certain, 
that there are several women of honour who patch 
out of principle, and with an eye to the interest of 
their country. Nay, I am informed that some of them 
adhere so stedfastly to their party, and are so far 
from sacrificing their zeal for the public to their pas- 
sions for any particular person, that in a late draught 
of marriage-articles a lady has stipulated with her 
husband, that whatever his opinions are, she shall be 
at liberty to patch on which side she pleases. 

I must here take notice, that Rosalinda, a famous 
Whig partisan, has most unfortunately a very beautiful 
mole on the Tory part of her forehead ; which being 
very conspicuous, has occasioned many mistakes, and 
given an handle to her enemies to misrepresent her 
face, as though it had revolted from the Whig in- 
terest. But, whatever this natural patch may seem 
to insinuate, it is well known that her notions of 
government are still the same. This unlucky mole, 
however, has misled several coxcombs ; and like the 
hanging out of false colours, made some of them con- 
verse with Rosalinda in what they thought the spirit 
of her party, when on a sudden she has given them 
an unexpected fire, that has sunk them all at once. 



62 STATESWOMEN. 

If Rosalinda is unfortunate in her mole, Nigranilla is 
as unhappy in a pimple, which forces her, against her 
inclinations, to patch on the Whig side. 

I am told that many virtuous matrons, who for- 
merly have been taught to believe that this artificial 
spotting of the face was unlawful, are now reconciled 
by a zeal for their cause, to what they could not be 
prompted by a concern for their beauty. This way 
of declaring war upon one another, puts me in mind 
of what is reported of the tigress, that several spots 
rise in her skin when she is angry; or, as Mr. Cowley 
has imitated the verses that stand as the motto of 
this paper, 

— She swells with angry pride, 
And calls forth all her spots on every side. 

When I was in the theatre the time above-men- 
tioned, I had the curiosity to count the patches on 
both sides, and found the Tory patches to be about 
twenty stronger than the Whig ; but to make amends 
for this small inequality, I the next morning found the 
whole puppet-show filled with faces spotted after the 
Whiggish manner. Whether or no the ladies had 
retreated hither in order to rally their forces, I cannot 
tell ; but the next night they came in so great a body 
to the opera, that they outnumbered the enemy. 

This account of party-patches will, I am afraid, 
appear improbable to those who live at a distance 
from the fashionable world ; but as it is a distinction 
of a very singular nature, and what perhaps may 
never meet with a parallel, I think I should not have 
discharged the office of a faithful Spectator, had 1 not 
recorded it. 

I have endeavoured to expose this party-rage in 
women, as it only serves to aggravate the hatred and 



PARTY PATCHES. 63 

animosities that reign among men, and in a great 
measure deprives the fair sex of those peculiar charms 
with which nature has endowed them. 

When the Romans and Sabines were at war, and 
just upon the point of giving battle, the women who 
were alHed to both of them, interposed with so many 
tears and entreaties, that they prevented the mutual 
slaughter which threatened both parties, and united 
them together in a firm and lasting peace. 

I would recommend this noble example to our 
British ladies, at a time when their country is torn 
with so many unnatural divisions, that if they con- 
tinue, it will be a misfortune to be born in it. The 
Greeks thought it so improper for women to interest 
themselves in competitions and contentions, that for 
this reason, among others, they forbad them, under 
pain of death, to be present at the Olympic games, 
notwithstanding these were the public diversions of 
all Greece. 

As our English women excel those of all nations in 
beauty, they should endeavour to outshine them in all 
other accomplishments proper to the sex, and to dis- 
tinguish themselves as tender mothers and faithful 
wives, rather than as furious partisans. Female vir- 
tues are of a domestic turn. The family is the proper 
province for private women to shine in. If they must 
be showing their zeaf for the pubhc, let it not be 
against those who are perhaps of the same family, or 
at least of the same religion or nation, but against 
those who are the open, professed, undoubted enemies 
of their faith, hberty, and country. When the Romans 
were pressed with a foreign enemy, the ladies volun- 
tarily contributed all their rings and jewels to assist 
the government under the public exigence, which 
appeared so laudable an action in the eyes of their 



64 STATESWOMEN. 

countrymen, that from thenceforth it was permitted 
by a law to pronounce pubhc orations at the funeral 
of a woman in praise of the deceased person, which 
till that time was peculiar to men. 

Would our English ladies, instead of sticking on a 
patch against those of their own country, show them- 
selves so truly public-spirited as to sacrifice every one 
her necklace against the common enemy, what de- 
crees ought not to be made in favour of them ! 

Since I am recollecting upon this subject such pas- 
sages as occur to my memory out of ancient authors, 
I cannot omit a sentence in the celebrated funeral 
oration of Pericles, which he made in honour of those 
brave Athenians that were slain in a fight with the 
Lacedaemonians. After having addressed himself to 
the several ranks and orders of his countrymen, and 
shown them how they should behave themselves in 
the public cause, he turns to the female part of his 
audience ; ' And as for you, (says he,) I shall advise 
you in very few words : aspire only to those virtues 
that are peculiar to your sex ; follow your natural 
modesty, and think it your greatest commendation 
not to be talked of one way or other.' 



WOMEN AND LIBERTY. 

It is with great satisfaction I observe, that the 
women of our island, who are the most eminent for 
virtue and good sense, are in the interest of the pres- 
ent government. As the fair sex very much recom- 
mend the cause they are engaged in, it would be no 
small misfortune to a sovereign, though he had all the 
male part of the nation on his side, if he did not find 



WOMEN AND LIBERTY. 65 

himself king of the most beautiful half of his subjects. 
Ladies are always of great use to the party they 
espouse, and never fail to win over numbers to it. 
Lovers, according to Sir WilHam Petty's computation, 
make at least the third part of the sensible men of the 
British nation ; and it has been an uncontroverted 
maxim in all ages, that, though a husband is some- 
times a stubborn sort of a creature, a lover is always 
at the devotion of his mistress. By this means, it lies 
in the power of every fine woman, to secure at least 
half a dozen able-bodied men to his Majesty's service. 
The female world are, likewise, indispensably neces- 
sary in the best causes, to manage the controversial 
part of them, in which no man of tolerable breeding 
is ever able to refute them. Arguments out of a 
pretty mouth are unanswerable. 

There are many reasons why the women of Great 
Britain should be on the side of the Freeholder, and 
enemies to the person who would bring in arbitrary 
government and Popery. As there are several of our 
ladies who amuse themselves in the reading of travels, 
they cannot but take notice, what uncomfortable lives 
those of their own sex lead, where passive obedience 
is professed and practised in its utmost perfection. 
In those countries, the men have no property but in 
their wives, who are the slaves to slaves : every 
married woman being subject to a domestic tyrant, 
that requires from her the same vassalage which he 
pays to his sultan. If the ladies would seriously con- 
sider the evil consequences of arbitrary power, they 
would find, that it spoils the shape of the foot in 
China, where the barbarous politics of the men so 
diminish the basis of the female figure, as to unqualify 
a woman for an evening walk or country-dance. In 
the East Indies, a widow, who has any regard to her 



66 STATESWOMEN. 

character, throws herself into the flames of her hus- 
band's funeral pile, to show, forsooth, that she is 
faithful and loyal to the memory of her deceased lord. 
In Persia, the daughters of Eve, as they call them, 
are reckoned in the inventory of their goods and 
chattels : and it is a usual thing, when a man sells a 
bale of silk or a drove of camels, to toss half a dozen 
women into the bargain. Through all the dominions 
of the Great Turk, a woman thinks herself happy, if 
she can get but the twelfth share of a husband, and is 
thought of no manner of use in the creation but to 
keep up a proper number of slaves for the commander 
of the faithful. I need not set forth the ill usage 
which the fair ones meet with, in those despotic 
governments that lie nearer us. Every one hath 
heard of the several ways of locking up women in 
Spain and Italy ; where, if there is any power lodged 
in any of the sex, it is not among the young and the 
beautiful, whom nature seems to have formed for it, 
but among the old and withered matrons, known by 
the frightful name of goiivernantes and duennas. If 
any should allege the freedoms indulged to the 
French ladies, he must own. that these are owing to 
the natural gallantry of the people, not to their form 
of government, which excludes, by its very constitu- 
tion, every female from power, as naturally unfit to 
hold the sceptre of that kingdom. 

Women ought, in reason, to be no less averse to 
Popery than to arbitrary power. Some merry authors 
have pretended to demonstrate, that the Roman 
Catholic religion could never spread in a nation where 
women would have more modesty than to expose 
their innocent liberties to a confessor. Others of the 
same turn have assured us, that the fine British 
complexion, which is so peculiar to our ladies, would 



WOMEN AND LIBERTY. 6^ 

suffer very much from a fish-diet : and that a whole 
Lent would give such a sallowness to the celebrated 
beauties of this island, as would scarce make them 
distinguishable from those of France. I shall only 
leave to the serious consideration of the country- 
women, the danger any of them might have been 
in, (had Popery been our natural religion,) of being 
forced by their relations to a state of perpetual vir- 
ginity. The most blooming toast in the island might 
have been a nun ; and many a lady, who is now a 
mother of fine children, condemned to a condition of 
hfe, disagreeable to herself and unprofitable to the 
world. To this I might add, the melancholy objects 
they would be daily entertained with, of several 
sightly men delivered over to an inviolable cehbacy. 
Let a young lady imagine to herself, the brisk em- 
broidered officer, who now makes love to her with so 
agreeable an air, converted into a monk ; or the beau, 
who now addresses himself to her in a full-bottomed 
wig, distinguished by a little bald pate covered with 
a black leather skull-cap. I forbear to mention many 
other objections, which the ladies, who are no strangers 
to the doctrines of Popery, will easily recollect : though 
I do not in the least doubt but those I have already 
suggested, will be sufficient to persuade my fair read- 
ers to be zealous in the Protestant cause. 

The freedom and happiness of our British ladies 
is so singular, that it is a common saying in foreign 
countries, ' If a bridge were built across the seas, all 
the women in Europe would flock into England.' It 
has been observed, that the laws relating to them are 
so favourable, that one would think they themselves 
had given votes in enacting them. All the honours 
and indulgences of society are due to them by our 
customs ; and, by our constitution, they have all the 



6S STATESWOMEN. 

privileges of English -born subjects, without the bur- 
dens. I need not acquaint my fair fellow-freeholders, 
that every man who is anxious for our sacred and 
civil rights, is a champion in their cause ; since we 
enjoy in common a religion agreeable to that reason- 
able nature, of which we equally partake ; and since, 
in point of property, our law makes no distinction of 
sexes. 

We may, therefore, justly expect from them, that 
they will act in concert with us for the preservation of 
our laws and religion, which cannot subsist, but under 
the government of his present Majesty ; and would 
necessarily be subverted, under that of a person bred 
up in the most violent principles of Popery and arbi- 
trary power. Thus may the fair sex contribute to fix 
the peace of a brave and generous people, who, for 
many ages, have disdained to bear any tyranny but 
theirs ; and be as famous in history, as those illustri- 
ous matrons, who, in the infancy of Rome, recon- 
ciled the Romans and the Sabines, and united the 
two contending parties under their new king. 



THE LADIES' ASSOCIATION. 

I HAVE heard that several ladies of distinction, upon 
the reading of my former paper, are studying methods 
how to make themselves useful to the pubHc. One 
has a design of keeping an open tea-table, where every 
man shall be welcome that is a friend to King George. 
Another is for setting up an assembly for basset, where 
none shall be admitted to punt that have not taken 
the oaths. A third is upon an invention of a dress, 
which will put every Tory lady out of countenance : 



THE LADIES* ASSOCIATION. 69 

I am not informed of the particulars, but am told in 
general, that she has contrived to show her principles 
by the setting of her commode ; so that it will be 
impossible for any woman, that is disaffected, to be in 
the fashion. Some of them are of opinion that the 
fan may be made use of, with good success, against 
Popery, by exhibiting the corruptions of the Church 
of Rome in various figures ; and that their abhorrence 
of the superstitious use of beads, may be very aptly 
expressed in the make of a pearl necklace. As for the 
civil part of our constitution, it is unanimously agreed, 
among the leaders of the sex, that there is no glory in 
making a man their slave, who has not naturally a 
passion for liberty ; and to disallow of all professions 
of passive obedience, but from a lover to his mistress. 
It happens very luckily for the interests of the 
Whigs, that their very enemies acknowledge the finest 
women of Great Britain to be of that party. The 
Tories are forced to borrow their toasts from their 
antagonists ; and can scarce find beauties enough of 
their own side, to supply a single round of October. 
One may, indeed, sometimes discover among the 
malignants of the sex a face that seems to have been 
naturally designed for a Whig lady ; but then it is 
so often flushed with rage, or soured with disappoint- 
ments, that one cannot but be troubled to see it 
thrown away upon the owner. Would the pretty male- 
content be persuaded to love her king and country, 
it would diffuse a cheerfulness through all her features, 
and give her quite another air. I would, therefore, 
advise these my gentle readers, as they consult the 
good of their faces, to forbear frowning upon loyalists, 
and pouting at the government. In the mean time, 
what may we not hope, from a cause which is recom- 
mended by all the allurement of beauty and the force 



yO STATES WOMEN. 

of truth ! It is, therefore, to be hoped, that every 
fine woman will make this laudable use of her charms ; 
and that she may not want to be frequently reminded 
of this great duty, I will only desire her to think of 
her country every time she looks in her glass. 

But because it is impossible to prescribe such rules 
as shall be suitable to the sex in general, I shall con- 
sider them under their several divisions of maids, 
wives, and widows. 

As for virgins, who are unexperienced in the wiles 
of men, they would do well to consider, how little 
they are to rely on the faith of lovers who, in less than 
a year, have broken their allegiance to their lawful 
sovereign ; and what credit is to be given to the vows 
and protestations of such as show themselves so little 
afraid of perjury. Besides, what would an innocent 
young lady think, should she marry a man without 
examining his principles, and afterwards find herself 
got with child by a rebel ? 

In the next place, every wife ought to answer for 
her man. If the husband be engaged in a seditious 
club, or drinks mysterious healths, or be frugal of his 
candles on a rejoicing night, let her look to him, and 
keep him out of harm's way ; or the world will be apt 
to say, she has a mind to be a widow before her time. 
She ought, in such cases, to exert the authority of the 
curtain lecture ; and if she finds him of a rebellious 
disposition, to tame him, as they do birds of prey, by 
dinning him in the ears all night long. 

Widows may be supposed women of too good sense 
not to discountenance all practices that have a ten- 
dency to the destruction of mankind. Besides, they 
have a greater interest in property than either maids 
or wives, and do not hold their jointures by the pre- 
carious tenure of portions or pin-money. So that it 



THE LADIES ASSOCIATION. 7 1 

is as unnatural for a dowager, as a freeholder, to be 
an enemy to our constitution. 

As nothing is more instructive than examples, I 
would recommend to the perusal of our British vir- 
gins, the story of Cleha, a Roman spinster, whose 
behaviour is represented by all their historians, as one 
of the chief motives that discouraged the Tarquins 
from prosecuting their attempt to regain the throne, 
from whence they had been expelled. Let the mar- 
ried women reflect upon the glory acquired by the wife 
of Coriolanus, who, when her husband, after long exile, 
was returning into his country with fire and sword, 
diverted him from so cruel and unnatural an enter- 
prise. And let those who have outlived their hus- 
bands, never forget their countrywoman Boadicea, 
who headed her troops in person against the invasion 
of a Roman army, and encouraged them with this 
memorable saying, ' I, who am a woman, am resolved 
upon victory or death : but as for you, who are men, 
you may, if you please, choose life and slavery.' 

But I do not propose to our British ladies, that they 
should turn Amazons in the service of their sovereign, 
nor so much as let their nails grow for the defence of 
their country. The men will take the work of the 
field off their hands, and show the world, that Enghsh 
valour cannot be matched when it is animated by 
English beauty. I do not, however, disapprove the 
project which is now on foot for a ' Female Associa- 
tion ' ; and since I hear the fair confederates cannot 
agree among themselves upon a form, shall presume 
to lay before them the following rough draft, to be 
corrected or improved, as they in their wisdom shall 
think fit. 

' We, the consorts, relicts, and spinsters, of the isle 
of Great Britain, whose names are under-written, being 



72 STATESWOMEN. 

most passionately offended at the falsehood and per- 
fidiousness of certain faithless men, and at the luke- 
warmth and indifference of others, have entered into 
a voluntary association for the good and safety of our 
constitution. And we do hereby engage ourselves 
to raise and arm our vassals for the service of his 
Majesty King George, and him to defend, with our 
tongues and hearts, our eyes, eye-lashes, favourites, 
lips, dimples, and every other feature, whether natural 
or acquired. We promise publicly and openly to avow 
the loyalty of our principles in every word we shall 
utter, and every patch we shall stick on. We do 
further promise, to annoy the enemy with all the 
flames, darts, and arrows, with which nature has 
armed us ; never to correspond with them by sigh, 
ogle, or billet-doux ; not to have any intercourse with 
them, either in snuff or tea ; nor to accept the civility 
of any man's hand, who is not ready to use it in the 
defence of his country. We are determined, in so 
good a cause, to endure the greatest hardships and 
severities, if there should be occasion ; and even to 
wear the manufacture of our country, rather than ap- 
pear the friends of a foreign interest in the richest 
French brocade. And forgetting all private feuds, 
jealousies, and animosities, we do unanimously obhge 
ourselves, by this our association, to stand and fall by 
one another, as loyal and faithful sisters and fellow- 
subjects.' 

N.B. This association will be lodged at Mr. Mot- 
teux's, where attendance will be given to the sub- 
scribers, who are to be ranged in their respective 
columns, as maids, wives, and widows. 



MEETING OF THE ASSOCIATION. 73 



MEETING OF THE ASSOCIATION. 

By our latest advices, both from town and country, 
it appears that the ladies of Great Britain, who are 
able to bear arms, that is, to smile or frown to any 
purpose, have already begun to commit hostilities 
upon the men of each opposite party. To this end 
we are assured, that many of them on both sides ex- 
ercise before their glasses every morning ; that they 
have already cashiered several of their followers as 
mutineers, who have contradicted them in some politi- 
cal conversations ; and that the Whig ladies in particu- 
lar design very soon to have a general review of their 
forces at a play bespoken by one of their leaders. 
This set of ladies, indeed, as they daily do duty at 
court, are much more expert in the use of their airs 
and graces than their female antagonists, who are most 
of them bred in the country ; so that the sisterhood 
of loyalists, in respect of the fair malecon tents, are like 
an army of regular forces, compared with a raw, un- 
disciplined mihtia. 

It is to this misfortune in their education that we 
may ascribe the rude and opprobrious language with 
which the disaffected part of the sex treat the present 
royal family. A little lively rustic, who hath been 
trained up in ignorance and prejudice, will prattle 
treason a whole winter's evening, and string together 
a parcel of silly seditious stories, that are equally void 
of decency and truth. Nay, you sometimes meet 
with a zealous matron, who sets up for the pattern of 
a parish, uttering such invectives as are highly mis- 
becoming her, both as a woman and a subject. In 
answer, therefore, to such disloyal termagants, I shall 
repeat to them a speech of the honest and blunt 



74 STATESWOMEN. 

Duke du Sully, to an assembly of Popish ladies, who 
were raihng very bitterly against Henry the Fourth, 
at his accession to the French throne ; ' Ladies,' said 
he, ' you have a very good king, if you know when you 
are well. However, set your hearts at rest, for he 
is not a man to be scolded or scratched out of his 
kingdom.' 

But as I never care to speak of the fair sex, unless 
I have an occasion to praise them, I shall take my 
leave of these ungentle damsels ; and only beg of them 
not to make themselves less amiable than nature 
designed them, by being rebels to the best of their 
abihties, and endeavouring to bring their country into 
bloodshed and confusion. Let me, therefore, recom- 
mend to them the example of those beautiful associ- 
ates, whom I mentioned in my former paper, as I have 
received the particulars of their behaviour from the 
person with whom I lodged their association. 

This association being written at length in a large 
roll of the finest vellum, with three distinct columns for 
the maids, wives, and widows, was opened for the sub- 
scribers near a fortnight ago. Never was a subscrip- 
tion for a raffling or an opera more crowded. There 
is scarce a celebrated beauty about town that you may 
not find in one of the three lists ; insomuch, that if a 
man," who did not know the design, should read only 
the names of the subscribers, he would fancy every 
column to be a catalogue of toasts. Mr. Motteux has 
been heard to say more than once, that if he had 
the portraits of all the associates, they would make a 
finer auction of pictures than he or anybody else had 
exhibited. 

Several of these ladies, indeed, criticised upon the 
form of the association. One of them, after the perusal 
of it, wondered that among the features to be used in 



MEETING OF THE ASSOCIATION. 75 

defence of their country, there was no mention made 
of teeth; upon which she smiled very charmingly, 
and discovered as fine a set as ever eye beheld. 
Another, who was a tall lovely prude, holding up her 
head in a most majestic manner, said, with some 
disdain, she thought a good neck might have done 
his Majesty as much service as smiles or dimples. A 
third looked upon the association as defective, because 
so necessary a word as hands was omitted ; and by 
her manner of taking up the pen, it was easy to guess 
the reason of her objection. 

Most of the persons who associated have done much 
more than by the letter of the association they were 
obliged to ; having not only set their names to it, but 
subscribed their several aids and subsidies for the 
carrying on so good a cause. In the virgin column is 
one who subscribes fifteen lovers, all of them good 
men and true. There is another who subscribes five 
admirers, with one tall handsome black man, fit to be 
a colonel. In short, there is scarce one in this Hst 
who does not engage herself to supply a quota of 
brisk young fellows, many of them already equipt 
with hats and feathers. Among the rest, was a pretty 
sprightly coquette, with sparkling eyes, who subscribed 
two quivers of arrows. 

In the column of wives, the first that took pen in 
hand, writ her own name and one vassal, meaning her 
husband. Another subscribes her husband and three 
sons. Another, her husband and six coach-horses. 
Most in this catalogue paired themselves with their 
respective mates, answering for them as men of honest 
principles, and fit for the service. 

N.B. There were two in this column that wore 
association ribbons ; the first of them subscribed her 
husband, and her husband's friend; the second a 



76 STATESWOMEN. 

husband and five lovers ; but upon inquiry into their 
characters, they are both of them found to be Tories, 
who hung out false colours to be spies upon the 
association, or to insinuate to the world by their sub- 
scriptions, as if a lady of Whig principles could love 
any man besides her husband. 

The widow's column is headed by a fine woman 
who calls herself Boadicea, and subscribes six hundred 
tenants. It was, indeed, observed that the strength of 
the association lay most in this column ; every widow, 
in proportion to her jointure, having a great number 
of admirers, and most of them distinguished as able 
men. Those who have examined this list, compute that 
there may be three regiments raised out of it, in which 
there shall not be one man under six foot high. 

I must not conclude this account without taking 
notice of the association-ribbon, by which these beauti- 
ful confederates have agreed to distinguish themselves. 
It is, indeed, so very pretty an ornament, that I wonder 
any Englishwoman will be without it. A lady of the 
association who bears this badge of allegiance upon 
her breast, naturally produces a desire in every male 
beholder, of gaining a place in a heart which carries 
on it such a visible mark of its fidehty. When the 
beauties of our island are thus industrious to show 
their principles as well as their charms, they raise the 
sentiments of their countrymen, and inspire them at 
the same time both with loyalty and love. What 
numbers of proselytes may we not expect, when the 
most amiable of the Britons thus exhibit to their 
admirers the only terms upon which they are to hope 
for any correspondence or alliance with them ! It is 
well known that the greatest blow the French nation 
ever received, was the dropping of a fine lady's garter, 
in the reign of King Edward the Third. The most 



POLITICS AND THE FAN. 7/ 

remarkable battles which have been since gained over 
that nation, were fought under the auspices of a blue 
ribbon. As our British ladies have still the same 
faces, and our men the same hearts, why may we not 
hope for the same glorious achievements from the 
influence of this beautiful breast-knot? 



POLITICS AND THE FAN. 

It is with great pleasure that I see a race of female 
patriots springing up in this island. The fairest among 
the daughters of Great Britain no longer confine their 
cares to a domestic life, but are grown anxious for the 
welfare of their country, and show themselves good 
stateswomen as well as good housewives. 

Our she-confederates keep pace with us in quashing 
that rebellion which had begun to spread itself among 
part of the fair sex. If the men who are true to their 
king and country have taken Preston and Perth, the 
ladies have possessed themselves of the opera and 
the playhouse with as little opposition or bloodshed. 
The non-resisting women, like their brothers in the 
Highlands, think no post tenable against an army that 
makes so fine an appearance ; and dare not look them 
in the face, when they are drawn up in battle-array. 

As an instance of this cheerfulness in our fair fellow- 
subjects to oppose the designs of the Pretender, I did 
but suggest in one of my former papers, ' That the 
fan might be made use of with good success against 
Popery, by exhibiting the corruptions of the church of 
Rome in various figures ; ' when immediately they took 
the hint, and have since had frequent consultations 
upon several ways and methods ' to make the fan 



yS STATESWOMEN. 

useful.' They have unanimously agreed upon the 
following resolutions, which are indeed very suitable 
to ladies who are at the same time the most beautiful 
and the most loyal of their sex. To hide their faces 
behind the fan, when they observe a Tory gazing upon 
them. Never to peep through it, but in order to pick 
out men, whose principles make them worth the con- 
quest. To return no other answer to a Tory's ad- 
dresses, than by counting the sticks of it all the while 
he is talking to them. To avoid dropping it in the 
neighbourhood of a malecontent, that he may not 
have an opportunity of taking it up. To show their 
disbelief of any Jacobite story by a flirt of it. To fall 
a fanning themselves when a Tory comes into one of 
their assemblies, as being disordered at the sight of him. 

These are the uses by which every fan may in the 
hands of a fine woman become serviceable to the 
public. But they have at present under consideration, 
certain fans of a Protestant make, that they may have 
a more extensive influence, and raise an abhorrence 
of Popery in a whole crowd of beholders : for they in- 
tend to let the world see what party they are of, by 
figures and designs upon these fans ; as the knights- 
errant used to distinguish themselves by devices on 
their shields. 

There are several sketches of pictures which have 
been already presented to the ladies for their appro- 
bation, and out of which several have made their 
choice. A pretty young lady will very soon appear 
with a fan, which has on it a nunnery of lively black- 
eyed vestals, who are endeavouring to creep out at the 
grates. Another has a fan mounted with a fine paper, 
on which is represented a group of people upon their 
knees very devoutly worshipping an old ten-penny 
nail. A certain lady of great learning has chosen for 



POLITICS AND THE FAN. 79 

her device the council of Trent ; and another, who 
has a good satirical turn, has filled her fan with the 
figure of a huge tawdry woman, representing the 
whore of Babylon ; which she is resolved to spread 
fiill in the face of any sister-disputant, whose argu- 
ments have a tendency to Popery. The following 
designs are already executed on several mountings. 
The ceremony of the holy pontiff opening the mouth 
of a cardinal in a full consistory. An old gentleman 
with a triple crown upon his head, and big with child, 
being the portrait of Pope Joan. Bishop Bonner pur- 
chasing great quantities of faggots and brushwood, for 
the conversion of heretics. A figure reaching at a 
sceptre with one hand, and holding a chaplet of beads 
in the other ; with a distant view of Smithfield. 

When our ladies make their zeal thus visible upon 
their fans, and every time they open them, display an 
error of the church of Rome, it cannot but have a good 
effect, by showing the enemies of our present estab- 
lishment the folly of what they are contending for. 
At least, every one must allow that fans are much 
more innocent engines for propagating the Protestant 
religion, than racks, wheels, gibbets, and the like ma- 
chines, which are made use of for the advancement of 
the Roman Cathohc. Besides, as every lady will of 
course study her fan, she will be a perfect mistress 
of the controversy, at least in one point of Popery ; 
and as her curiosity will put her upon the perusal of 
every other fan that is fashionable, I doubt not but in 
f very little time there will be scarce a woman of 
quality in Great Britain, who would not be an over- 
match for an Irish priest. 

The beautiful part of this island, whom I am proud 
to number amongst the most candid of my readers, 
will likewise do well to reflect, that our dispute at 



80 STATESWOMEN. 

present concerns our civil as well as religious rights. 
I shall therefore only offer it to their thoughts as a 
point that highly deserves their consideration, whether 
the fan may not also be made use of with regard to 
our political constitution. As a Freeholder, I would 
not have them confine their cares for us as we are 
Protestants, but at the same time have an eye to our 
happiness as we are Britons. In this case they would 
give a new turn to the minds of their countrymen, if 
they would exhibit on their fons the several grievances 
of a tyrannical government. Why might not an audi- 
ence of Muley Ishmael, or a Turk dropping his hand- 
kerchief in his seraglio, be proper subjects to express 
their abhorrence both of despotic power, and of male 
tyranny? or if they have a fancy for burlesque, what 
would they think of a French cobbler cutting shoes 
for several of his fellow- subjects out of an old apple- 
tree? On the contrary, a fine woman, who would 
maintain the dignity of her sex, might bear a string of 
galley slaves, dragging their chains the whole breadth 
of her fan ; and at the same time, to celebrate her own 
triumphs, might order every slave to be drawn with the 
face of one of her admirers. 

I only propose these as hints to my gentle readers, 
which they may alter or improve as they shall think 
fit : but cannot conclude witliout congratulating our 
country upon this disposition among the most amiable 
of its inhabitants, to consider in their ornaments the 
advantage of the public as well as of their persons. 
It was with the same spirit, though not with the same 
politeness, that the ancient British women had the 
figures of monsters painted on their naked bodies, in 
order (as our historians tell us) to make themselves 
beautiful in the eyes of their countrymen, and terrible 
to their enemies. If this project goes on, we may 



PRETTY DISAFFECTION. 8l 

boast, that our sister Whigs have the finest fans, as 
well as the most beautiful faces, of any ladies in the 
world. At least, we may venture to foretell, that the 
figures in their fans will lessen the Tory interest, 
much more than those in the Oxford Almanacs will 
advance it. 



PRETTY DISAFFECTION. 

When the Athenians had long contended against 
the power of Philip, he demanded of them to give up 
their orators, as well knowing their opposition would 
be soon at an end if it were not irritated from time to 
time by these tongue-warriors. I have endeavoured, 
for the same reason, to gain our female adversaries, 
and by that means to disarm the party of its principal 
strength. Let them give us up their women, and we 
know by experience how inconsiderable a resistance 
we are to expect from their men. 

This sharp political humour has but lately prevailed 
in so great a measure as it now does among the beauti- 
ful part of our species. They used to employ them- 
selves wholly in the scenes of a domestic life, and 
provided a woman could keep her house in order, she 
never troubled herself about regulating the common- 
wealth. The eye of the mistress was wont to make 
her pewter shine, and to inspect every part of her 
household furniture as much as her looking-glass. 
But at present our discontented matrons are so con- 
versant in matters of state, that they wholly neglect 
their private affairs ; for we may always observe that 
a gossip in politics is a slattern in her family. 

It is indeed a melancholy thing to see the disorders 
of a household that is under the conduct of an angry 



82 STATESWOMEN. 

stateswoman, who lays out all her thoughts upon the 
public, and is only attentive to find out miscarriages 
in the ministry. Several women of this turn are so 
earnest in contending for hereditary right, that they 
wholly neglect the education of their sons and heirs ; 
and are so taken up with their zeal for the church, 
that they cannot find time to teach their children 
their catechism. A lady who thus intrudes into the 
province of the men, was so astonishing a character 
among the old Romans, that when Amaesia presented 
herself to speak before the senate, they looked upon 
it as a prodigy, and sent messengers to inquire of the 
oracle, what it might portend to the commonwealth ? 
It would be manifestly to the disadvantage of the 
British cause, should our pretty loyalists profess an 
indifference in state affairs, while their disaffected 
sisters are thus industrious to the prejudice of their 
country ; and accordingly we have the satisfaction to 
find our she-associates are not idle upon this occasion. 
It is owing to the good principles of these his Majesty's 
fair and faithful subjects, that our country-women 
appear no less amiable in the eyes of the male world, 
than they have done in former ages. For where a 
great number of flowers grow, the ground at a dis- 
tance seems entirely covered with them, and we must 
walk into it, before we can distinguish the several 
weeds that spring up in such a beautiful mass of ^ 
colours. Our great concern is, to find deformity can 
arise among so many charms, and that the most 
lovely parts of the creation can make themselves the 
most disagreeable. But it is an observation of the 
philosophers, that the best things may be corrupted 
into the worst ; and the ancients did not scruple to 
affirm, that the Furies and the Graces were of the 
same sex. 



PRETTY DISAFFECTION. 83 

As I should do the nation and themselves good 
service, if I could draw the ladies, who still hold out 
against his Majesty, into the interest of our present 
establishment, I shall propose to their serious con- 
sideration, the several inconveniences which those 
among them undergo, who have not yet surrendered 
to the government. 

They should first reflect on the great sufferings and 
persecutions to which they expose themselves by the 
obstinacy of their behaviour. They lose their elec- 
tions in every club where they are set up for toasts. 
They are obliged by their principles to stick a patch 
on the most unbecoming side of their foreheads. They 
forego the advantage of birth-day suits. They are 
insulted by the loyalty of claps and hisses every time 
they appear at a play. They receive no benefit from 
the army, and are never the better for all the young 
fellows that wear hats and feathers. They are forced 
to hve in the country and feed their chickens ; at the 
same time that they might show themselves at court, 
and appear in brocade, if they behaved themselves 
well. In short, what must go to the heart of every 
fine woman, they throw themselves quite out of the 
fashion. 

The above-mentioned motive must have an influence 
upon the gay part of the sex ; and as for those who 
are acted by more sublime and moral principles, they 
should consider, that they cannot signalize themselves 
as malecontents, without breaking through all the 
amiable instincts and softer virtues, which are pecul- 
iarly ornamental to womankind. Their timorous, 
gentle, modest behaviour ; their affabihty, meekness, 
good-breeding, and many other beautiful dispositions 
of mind, must be sacrificed to a blind and furious 
zeal for they do not know what. A man is startled 



84 STATESWOMEN. 

when he sees a pretty bosom heaving with such party- 
rage, as is disagreeable even in that sex, which is of a 
more coarse and rugged make. And yet such is our 
misfortune, that we sometimes see a pair of stays 
ready to burst with sedition ; and hear the most mas- 
cuHne passions exprest in the sweetest voices. I have 
lately been told of a country-gentlewoman, pretty much 
famed for this virihty of behaviour in party-disputes, 
who, upon venting her notions very freely in a strange 
place, was carried before an honest justice of the 
peace. This prudent magistrate observing her to be 
a large black woman, and finding by her discourse 
that she was no better than a rebel in a riding-hood, 
began to suspect her for my Lord Nithisdale ; till a 
stranger came to her rescue, who assured him, with 
tears in his eyes, that he was her husband. 

In the next place, our British ladies may consider, 
that by interesting themselves so zealously in the 
affairs of the public, they are engaged, without any 
necessity, in the crimes which are often committed 
even by the best of parties, and which they are natu- 
rally exempted from by the privilege of their sex. 
The worse character a female could formerly arrive at, 
was of being an ill woman ; but by their present con- 
duct, she miy likewise deserve the character of an ill 
subject. They come in for their share of political 
guilt, and have found a way to make themselves much 
greater criminals than their mothers before them. 

I have great hopes that these motives, when they 
are assisted by their own reflections, will incline the 
fair ones of the adverse party to come over to the 
national interest, in which their own is so highly con- 
cerned ; especially if they consider, that by these 
superfluous employments which they take upon them 
as partisans, they do not only dip themselves in an 



PRETTY DISAFFECTION. 85 

unnecessary guilt, but are obnoxious to a grief and 
anguish of mind, which doth not properly fall within 
their lot. And here I would advise every one of these 
exasperated ladies, who indulge that opprobrious elo- 
quence which is so much in fashion, to reflect on 
^sop's fable of the viper. 'This little animal, (says 
the old moralist,) chancing to meet with a file, began 
to lick it with her tongue till the blood came ; which 
gave her a very silly satisfaction, as imagining the 
blood came from the file, notwithstanding all the 
smart was in her own tongue.' 



HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 



THE ROYAL EXCHANGE. 

There is no place in the town which I so much 
love to frequent as the Royal Exchange. It gives rae 
a secret satisfaction, and, in some measure, gratifies 
my vanity, as I am an Englishman, to see so rich an 
assembly of countrymen and foreigners consulting 
together upon the private business of mankind, and 
making this metropolis a kind of emporium for the 
whole earth. I must confess I look upon high-change 
to be a great council, in which all considerable nations 
have their representatives. Factors in the trading 
world are what ambassadors are in the politic world ; 
they negotiate affairs, conclude treaties, and maintain 
a good correspondence between those wealthy societies 
of men that are divided from one another by seas and 
oceans, or live on the different extremities of a con- 
tinent. I have often been pleased to hear disputes 
adjusted between an inhabitant of Japan and an alder- 
man of London, or to see a subject of the Great 
Mogul entering into a league with one of the Czar of 
Muscovy. I am infinitely delighted in mixing with 
these several ministers of commerce, as they are dis- 
tinguished by their different walks and different lan- 
guages : sometimes I am justled among a body of 
Armenians ; sometimes I am lost in a crowd of Jews ; 
86 



THE ROYAL EXCHANGE. 8/ 

and sometimes make one in a group of Dutchmen. 
I am a Dane, Swede, or Frenchman at different times ; 
or rather fancy myself like the old philosopher, who 
upon being asked what countryman he was, repHed, 
that he was a citizen of the world. 

Though I very frequently visit this busy multitude 
of people, I am known to nobody there but my friend 
Sir Andrew, who often smiles upon me as he sees me 
bustling in the crowd, but at the same time connives 
at my presence without taking any further notice of 
me. There is indeed a merchant of Egypt, who just 
knows me by sight, having formerly remitted me some 
money to Grand Cairo ; but as I am not versed in 
the modern Coptic, our conferences go no further than 
a bow and a grimace. 

This grand scene of business gives me an infinite 
variety of solid and substantial entertainments. As 
I am a great lover of mankind, my heart naturally 
overflows with pleasure at the sight of a prosperous 
and happy multitude, insomuch, that at many public 
solemnities I cannot forbear expressing my joy with 
tears that have stolen down my cheeks. For this 
reason I am wonderfully dehghted to see such a body 
of men thriving in their own private fortunes, and at 
the same time promoting the public stock ; or, in 
other words, raising estates for their own families, by 
bringing into their country whatever is wanting, and 
carrying out of it whatever is superfluous. 

Nature seems to have taken a peculiar care to 
disseminate the blessings among the different regions 
of the world, with an eye to this mutual intercourse 
and traffic among mankind, that the natives of the 
several parts of the globe might have a kind of de- 
pendence upon one another, and be united together 
by this common interest. Almost every degree pro- 



S8 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 

duces something peculiar to it. The food often grows 
in one country, and the sauce in another. The fruits 
of Portugal are corrected by the products of Barba- 
does ; the infusion of a China plant sweetened with the 
pith of an Indian cane. The Philippine Islands give 
a flavour to our European bowls. The single dress of 
a woman of quality is often the product of a hundred 
climates. The muff and the fan come together from 
the different ends of the earth. The scarf is sent from 
the torrid zone, and the tippet from beneath the pole. 
The brocade petticoat rises out of the mines of Peru, 
and the diamond necklace out of the bowels of 
Indostan. 

If we consider our own country in its natural 
prospect, without any of the benefits and advantages 
of commerce, what a barren, uncomfortable spot of 
earth falls to our share ! Natural historians tell us, 
that no fruit grows originally among us besides hips 
and haws, acorns and pig-nuts, with other delicacies 
of the like nature ; that our climate of itself, and 
without the assistance of art, can make no further 
advances towards a plum than to a sloe, and carries 
an apple to no greater a perfection than a crab : that 
our melons, our peaches, our figs, our apricots, and 
cherries, are strangers among us, imported in different 
ages, and naturalized in our English gardens ; and 
that they would all degenerate and fall away into the 
trash of our own country, if they were wholly neglected 
by the planter, and left to the mercy of our sun and 
soil. Nor has traffic more enriched our vegetable 
world, than it has improved the whole face of nature 
among us. Our ships are laden with the harvest of 
every climate : our tables are stored with spices, and 
oils, and wines ; our rooms are filled with pyramids 
of China, and adorned with the workmanship of 



THE ROYAL EXCHANGE. 89 

Japan : our morning's draught comes to us from the 
remotest corners of the earth ; we repair our bodies 
by the drugs of America, and repose oursekes under 
Indian canopies. My friend Sir Andrew calls the 
vineyards of France our gardens ; the spice-islands 
our hot-beds ; the Persians our silk-weavers, and the 
Chinese our potters. Nature indeed furnishes us with 
the bare necessaries of Hfe, but traffic gives us a great 
variety of what is useful, and at the same time supplies 
us with everything that is convenient and ornamental. 
Nor is it the least part of this our happiness, that 
while we enjoy the remotest products of the north 
and south, we are free from those extremities of 
weather which give them birth ; that our eyes are 
refreshed with the green fields of Britain, at the same 
time that our palates are feasted with fruits that rise 
between the tropics. 

For these reasons there are not more useful members 
in a commonwealth than merchants. They knit man- 
kind together in a mutual intercourse of good offices, 
distribute the gifts of nature, find work for the poor, 
and wealth to the rich, and magnificence to the great. 
Our English merchant converts the tin of his own 
country into gold, and exchanges his wool for rubies. 
The Mahometans are clothed in our British manu- 
facture, and the inhabitants of the frozen zone warmed 
with the fleeces of our sheep. 

When 1 have been upon the Change, I have often 
fancied one of our old kings standing in person, where 
he is represented in effigy, and looking down upon 
the wealthy concourse of people with which that place 
is every day filled. In this case, how would he be 
surprised to hear all the languages of Europe spoken 
in this little spot of his former dominions, and to see 
so many private men, who in his time would have 



9b HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 

been the vassals of some powerful baron, negotiating 
like princes for greater sums of money than were 
formerly to be met with in the royal treasury ! Trade, 
without enlarging the British territories, has given us 
a kind of additional empire : it has multiplied the 
number of the rich, made our landed estates infinitely 
more valuable than they were formerly, and added to 
them an accession of other estates as valuable as the 
lands themselves. 



STAGE LIONS. 

There is nothing that of late years has afforded 
matter of greater amusement to the town than Signior 
Nicolini's combat with a lion in the Haymarket, which 
has been very often exhibited to the general satis- 
faction of most of the nobility and gentry in the king- 
dom of Great Britain. Upon the first rumour of this 
intended combat, it was confidently affirmed, and is 
still believed by many in both galleries, that there 
would be a tame lion sent from the Tower every 
opera night, in order to be killed by Hydaspes ; this 
report, though altogether groundless, so universally 
prevailed in the upper regions of the playhouse, that 
some of the most refined politicians in those parts of 
the audience gave it out in whisper, that the lion was 
a cousin-german of the tiger who made his appear- 
ance in King William's days, and that the stage 
would be supplied with lions at the public expense, 
during the whole session. Many likewise were the 
conjectures of the treatment which this lion was to 
meet with from the hands of Signior Nicohni : some 
supposed that he was to subdue him in recitativo, as 
Orpheus used to serve the wild beasts in his time, and 



STAGE LIONS. 9I 

afterwards to knock him on the head ; some fancied 
that the Hon would not pretend to lay his paws upon 
the hero, by reason of the received opinion, that a lion 
will not hurt a virgin : several, who pretended to have 
seen the opera in Italy, had informed their friends, 
that the lion was to act a part in High-Dutch, and 
roar twice or thrice to a thorough-bass, before he fell 
at the feet of Hydaspes. To clear up a matter that 
was so variously reported, I have made it my business 
to examine whether this pretended lion is really the 
savage he appears to be, or only a counterfeit. 

But before I communicate my discoveries, I must 
acquaint the reader, that upon my walking behind the 
scenes last winter, as I was thinking on something 
else, I accidentally justled against a monstrous animal 
that extremely startled me, and upon my nearer sur- 
vey of it, appeared to be a lion rampant. The lion 
seeing me very much surprised, told me, in a gentle 
voice, that I might come by him if I pleased : ' For,' 
says he, * I do not intend to hurt anybody.' I thanked 
him very kindly, and passed by him. And in a little 
time after saw him leap upon the stage, and act his 
part with very great applause. It has been observed 
by several, that the lion has changed his manner of 
acting twice or thrice since his first appearance; 
which will not seem strange, when I acquaint my 
reader that the lion has been changed upon the 
audience three several times. The first lion was a 
candle-snuffer, who being a fellow of a testy, choleric 
temper, over-did his part, and would not sufter him- 
self to be killed so easily as he ought to have done; 
besides, it was observed of him, that he grew more 
surly every time he came out of the lion, and having 
dropt some words in ordinary conversation, as if he 
had not fought his best, and that he suffered himself 



92 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 

to be thrown upon his back in the scuffle, and that he 
would wrestle with Mr. Nicolini for what he pleased, 
out of his lion's skin, it was thought proper to discard 
him : and it is verily believed, to this day, that had 
he been brought upon the stage another time, he 
would certainly have done mischief. Besides, it was 
objected against the first lion, that he reared himself 
so high upon his hinder paws, and walked in so erect 
a posture, that he looked more hke an old man than 
a lion. 

The second lion was a tailor by trade, who belonged 
to the playhouse, and had the character of a mild and 
peaceable man in his profession. If the former was 
too furious, this was too sheepish for his part ; inso- 
much, that after a short modest walk upon the stage, 
he would fall at the first touch of Hydaspes, without 
grappling with him, and giving him an opportunity of 
showing his variety of Italian trips. It is said, indeed, 
that he once gave him a rip in his flesh-coloured 
doublet ; but this was only to make work for himself, 
in his private character of a tailor. I must not omit 
that it was this second lion who treated me with so 
much humanity behind the scenes. 

The acting lion at present is, as I am informed, a 
country gentleman, who does it for his diversion, but 
desires his name may be concealed. He says, very 
handsomely, in. his own excuse, that he does not act 
for gain ; that he indulges an innocent pleasure in it ; 
and that it is better to pass away an evening in this 
manner than in gaming and drinking : but at the 
same time says, with a very agreeable raillery upon 
himself, that if his name should be known, the ill- 
natured world might call him, ' the ass in the hon's 
skin.' This gentleman's temper is made out of such a 
happy mixture of the mild and the choleric, that he 



STAGE LIONS. 93 

outdoes both his predecessors, and has drawn to- 
gether greater audiences than have been known in 
the memory of man. 

I must not conclude my narrative, without taking 
notice of a groundless report that has been raised to 
a gentleman's disadvantage, of whom I must declare 
myself an admirer ; namely, that Signior Nicolini 
and the lion have been seen sitting peaceably by one 
another, and smoking a pipe together behind the 
scenes ; by which their common enemies would in- 
sinuate, that it is but a sham combat which they 
represent upon the stage : but upon inquiry I find, 
that if any such correspondence has passed between 
them, it was not till the combat was over, when the 
lion was to be looked upon as dead, according to the 
received rules of the drama. Besides, this is what 
is practised every day in Westminster Hall, where 
nothing is more usual than to see a couple of lawyers, 
who have been tearing each other to pieces in the 
court, embracing one another as soon as they are out 
of it. 

I would not be thought, in any part of this relation, 
to reflect upon Signior Nicolini, who in acting this 
part only complies with the wretched taste of his 
audience ; he knows very well, that the lion has many 
more admirers than himself; as they say of the fa- 
mous equestrian statue on the Pont Neuf at Paris, that 
more people go to see the horse than the king who 
sits upon it. On the contrary, it gives me a just 
indignation to see a person whose action gives new 
majesty to kings, resolution to heroes, and softness 
to lovers, thus sinking from the greatness of his be- 
haviour, and degraded into the character of the 
London Prentice. I have often wished, that our 
tragedians would copy after this great master in 



94 HUMOURS OF THE TOW^. 

action. Could they make the same use of their arms 
and legs, and inform their faces with as significant 
looks and passions, how glorious would an English 
tragedy appear with that action which is capable of 
giving a dignity to the forced thoughts, cold conceits, 
and unnatural expressions of an Italian opera ! In the 
mean time, I have related this combat of the lion, to 
show what are at present the reigning entertainments 
of the poHter part of Great Britain. 



THE POLITICAL UPHOLSTERER. 

There lived some years since within my neigh- 
bourhood a very grave person, an upholsterer, who 
seemed a man of more than ordinary application to 
business. He was a very early riser, and was often 
abroad two or three hours before any of his neigh- 
bours. He had a particular carefulness in the knitting 
of his brows, and a kind of impatience in all his 
motions, that plainly discovered he was always intent 
on matters of importance. Upon my inquiry into his 
life and conversation, I found him to be the greatest 
newsmonger in our quarter ; that he rose before day 
to read the Postman ; and that he would take two or 
three turns to the other end of the town before his 
neighbours were up, to see if there were any Dutch 
mails come in. He had a wife and several children ; 
but was much more inquisitive to know what passed in 
Poland than in his own family, and was in greater 
pain and anxiety of mind for King Augustus's welfare 
than that of his nearest relations. He looked ex- 
tremely thin in a dearth of news, and never enjoyed 
himself in a westerly wind. This indefatigable kind 



THE POLITICAL UPHOLSTERER. 95 

of life was the ruin of his shop : for about the time 
that his favourite prince left the crown of Poland, he 
broke and disappeared. 

This man and his affairs had been long out of mind, 
till about three days ago, as I was walking in St. James's 
Park, I heard somebody at a distance hemming after 
me : and who should it be but my old neighbour the 
upholsterer. I saw he was reduced to extreme poverty, 
by certain shabby superfluities in his dress : for, not- 
withstanding that it was a very sultry day for the time 
of year, he wore a loose great coat and a muff, with a 
long campaign- wig out of curl ; to which he had added 
the ornament of a pair of black garters buckled under 
the knee. Upon his coming up to me, I was going to 
inquire into his present circumstances ; but was pre- 
vented by his asking me, with a whisper, ' Whether 
the last letters brought any accounts that one might 
rely upon from Bender ? ' I told him, ' None that I 
heard of; ' and asked him, 'Whether he had yet mar- 
ried his eldest daughter ? ' He told me ' No. But 
pray,' says he, 'tell me sincerely, what are your 
thoughts of the king of Sweden?' (for though his 
wife and children were starving, I found his chief 
concern at present was for this great monarch). I 
told him, ' that I looked upon him as one of the first 
heroes of the age.' ' But pray,' says he, ' do you 
think there is anything in the story of his wound ? ' 
and finding me surprised at the question, ' Nay,' says 
he, ' I only propose it to you.' I answered, ' that I 
thought there was no reason to doubt it.' ' But why 
in the heel,' says he, ' more than in any other part of 
the body ? ' ' Because,' says I, ' the bullet chanced to 
light there.' 

This extraordinary dialogue was no sooner ended, 
but he began to launch out into a long dissertation 



96 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 

upon the afifairs of the North ; and after having spent 
some time on them, he told me, he was in a great per- 
plexity how to reconcile the Supplement with the 
English Post, and had been just now examining what 
the other papers say upon the same subject. The 
Daily Courant (says he) has these words, ' We have 
advices from very good hands, that a certain prince 
has some matters of great importance under con- 
sideration.' This is very mysterious ; but the Post- 
boy leaves us more in the dark, for he tells us, * That 
there are private intimations of measures taken by a 
certain prince, which time will bring to Hght' Now 
the Postman, (says he,) who used to be very clear, 
refers to the same news in these words; *The late 
conduct of a certain prince affords great matter of 
speculation.' 'This certain prince,' (says the uphol- 
sterer,) ' whom they are all so cautious of naming, I 

take to be ,' upon which, though there was nobody 

near us, he whispered something in my ear, which I 
did not hear, or think worth my while to make him 
repeat. 

We were now got to the upper end of the Mall, 
where were three or four very odd fellows sitting 
together upon the bench. These I found were all 
of them politicians, who used to sun themselves in 
that place every day about dinner-time. Observing 
them to be curiosities in their kind, and my friend's 
acquaintance, I sat down among them. 

The chief politician of the bench was a great assertor 
of paradoxes. He told us, with a seeming concern, 
that by some news he had lately read from Muscovy, 
it appeared to him that there was a storm gathering 
in the Black Sea, which might in time do hurt to the 
naval forces of this nation. To this he added, that 
for his part, he could not wish to see the Turk driven 



THE POLITICAL UPHOLSTERER. 9/ 

out of Europe, which he believed could not but be 
prejudicial to our woollen manufacture. He then told 
us, that he looked upon those extraordinary revolu- 
tions which had lately happened in these parts of the 
world, to have risen chiefly from two persons who 
were not much talked of; and those, says he, are 
Prince Menzikoff, and the Duchess of Mirandola. 
He backed his assertions with so many broken hints, 
and such a show of depth and wisdom, that we gave 
ourselves up to his opinions. 

The discourse at length fell upon a point which 
seldom escapes a knot of true-born Englishmen, 
whether in case of a religious war, the Protestants 
would not be too strong for the Papists ? This we 
unanimously determined on the Protestant side. One 
who sat on my right hand, and, as I found by his dis- 
course, had been in the West Indies, assured us, that 
it would be a very easy matter for the Protestants to 
beat the pope at sea ; and added, that whenever such 
a war does break out, it must turn to the good of the 
Leeward Islands. Upon this, one who sat at the end 
of the bench, and, as I afterwards found, was the geog- 
rapher of the company, said, that in case the Papists 
should drive the Protestants from these parts of 
Europe, when the worst came to the worst, it would 
be impossible to beat them out of Norway and Green- 
land, provided the northern crowns hold together, and 
the Czar of Muscovy stand neuter. 

He further told us for our comfort, that there were 
vast tracts of lands about the pole, inhabited neither 
by Protestants nor Papists, and of greater extent than 
all the Roman Catholic dominions in Europe. 

When we had fully discussed this point, my friend 
the upholsterer began to exert himself upon the pre- 
sent negotiations of peace, in which he deposed 



98 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 

princes, settled the bounds of kingdoms, and balanced 
the power of Europe, with great justice and im- 
partiality. 

I at length took my leave of the company, and was 
going away; but had not been gone thirty yards, 
before the upholsterer hemmed again after me. Upon 
his advancing towards me, with a whisper, I expected 
to hear some secret piece of news, which he had not 
thought fit to communicate to the bench ; but instead 
of that, he desired me in my ear to lend him half-a- 
crown. In compassion to so needy a statesman, and 
to dissipate the confusion I found he was in, I told 
him, if he pleased, I would give him five shilHngs, to 
receive five pounds of him when the Great Turk was 
driven out of Constantinople ; which he very readily 
accepted, but not before he had laid down to me the 
impossibility of such an event, as the affairs of Europe 
now stand. 

This paper I design for the particular benefit of 
those worthy citizens who live more in a coffee-house 
than in their shops, and whose thoughts are so taken 
up with the affairs of the alUes, that they forget their 
customers. 



A VISIT FROM THE UPHOLSTERER. 

A COMMON civility to an impertinent fellow, often 
draws upon one a great many unforeseen troubles ; and 
if one doth not take particular care, will be interpreted 
by him as an overture of friendship and intimacy. 
This I was very sensible of this morning. About two 
hours before day, I heard a great rapping at my door, 
which continued some time, till my maid could get 



A VISIT FROM THE UPHOLSTERER. 99 

herself ready to go down and see what was the 
occasion of it. She then brought me up word, that 
there was a gentleman who seemed very much in 
haste, and said he must needs speak with me. By 
the description she gave me of him, and by his voice, 
which I could hear as I lay in my bed, I fancied him 
to be my old acquaintance the upholsterer, whom I 
met the other day in St. James's Park. For which 
reason I bid her tell the gentleman, whoever he was, 
that I was indisposed, that I could see nobody, and 
that, if he had anything to say to me, I desired he 
would leave it in writing. My maid, after having 
delivered her message, told me, that the gentleman 
said he would stay at the next coffee-house till I was 
stirring, and bid her be sure to tell me, that the 
French were driven from the Scarp, and that the 
Douay was invested. He gave her the name of 
another town, which I found she had dropped by 
the way. 

As much as I love to be informed of the success 
of my brave countrymen, I do not care for hearing 
of a victory before day, and was therefore very much 
out of humour at this unseasonable visit. I had no 
sooner recovered my temper, and was falling asleep, 
but I was immediately startled by a second rap ; and 
upon my maid's opening the door, heard the same 
voice ask her, if her master was yet up? and at the 
same time bid her tell me, that he was come on 
purpose to talk with me about a piece of home-news 
that everybody in town will be full of two hours 
hence. I ordered my maid, as soon as she came 
into the room, without hearing her message, to tell 
the gentleman, that whatever his news was, I would 
rather hear it two hours hence than now ; and that 
I persisted in my resolution not to speak with any- 



lOO HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 

body that morning. The wench delivered my answer 
presently, and shut the door. It was impossible for 
me to compose myself to sleep after two such un- 
expected alarms ; for which reason I put on my 
clothes in a very peevish humour. I took several 
turns about my chamber, reflecting with a great deal 
of anger and contempt on these volunteers in politics, 
that undergo all the pain, watchfulness, and disquiet 
of a first minister, without turning it to the adva,ntage 
either of themselves or their country ; and yet it is 
surprising to consider how numerous this species of 
men is. There is nothing more frequent than to find 
a tailor breaking his rest on the affairs of Europe, and 
to see a cluster of porters sitting upon the ministry. 
Our streets swarm with politicians, and there is scarce 
a shop which is not held by a statesman. As I was 
musing after this manner, I heard the upholsterer at 
the door dehvering a letter to my maid, and begging 
her, in very great hurry, to give it to her master as 
soon as ever he was awake, which I opened and found 
as follows : 

Mr. Bickerstaffe, 

I was to wait upon you about a week ago, to 
let you know, that the honest gentleman whom you 
conversed with upon the bench at the end of the Mall, 
having heard that I had received five shillings of you. to 
give you a hundred pounds upon the Great Turk's being 
driven out of Europe, desired me to acquaint you, that 
every one of that company would be willing to receive five 
shillings, to pay a hundred pounds on the same conditions. 
Our last advices from Muscovy making this a fairer bet 
than it was a week ago, I do not question but you will 
accept the wager. 

But this is not my present business. If you remember, 
I whispered a word in your ear as we were walking up the 



A VISIT FROM THE UPHOLSTERER. lOI 

Mall, and you see what has happened since. If I had 
seen 3'ou this morning, I would have told you in your ear 
another secret. I hope you will be recovered of your in- 
disposition by to-morrow morning, when I will wait on 
you at the same hour as I did this ; my private circum- 
stances being such, that I cannot well appear in this quar- 
ter of the town after it is day. 

I have been so taken up with the late good news from 
Holland, and the expectation of further particulars, as well 
as with other transactions, of which I will tell you more 
to-morrow morning, that I have not slept a wink these 
three nights. 

I have reason to believe, that Picardy will soon follow 
the example of Artois, in case the enemy continue in their 
present resolution of flying away from us. I think I told 
you last time we were together my opinion about the 
Deulle. 

The honest gentlemen upon the bench bid me tell you, 
they would be glad to see you often among them. We 
shall be there all the warm hours of the day during the 
present posture of affairs. 

This happy opening of the campaign, will, I hope, give 
us a very joyful summer ; and I propose to take many a 
pleasant walk with you, if you will sometimes come into 
the Park ; for that is the only place in which I can be free 
from the malice of my enemies. Farewell till three-a- 
clock to-morrow morning. 
I am 

Your most humble servant, &c. 

P.S. The king of Sweden is still at Bender. 



I should have fretted myself to death at this promise 
of a second visit, if I had not found in his letter an 
intimation of the good news which I have since heard 
at large. I have, however, ordered my maid to tie 
up the knocker of my door, in such a manner as she 
would do if I were really indisposed. By which means 
I hope to escape breaking my morning's rest. 



102 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 



THE FORTUNE HUNTER. 

Mr. Spectator, 

I am amazed that, among all the variety of char- 
acters with which you have enriched your speculations, 
you have never given us a picture of those audacious young 
fellows among us, who commonly go by the name of fortune- 
stealers. You must know, sir, I am one who live in a con- 
tinual apprehension of this sort of people, that lie in wait, 
day and night, for our children, and may be considered as 
a kind of kidnappers within the law. I am the father of a 
young heiress, whom I begin to look upon as marriageable, 
and who has looked upon herself as such for above these 
six years. She is now in the eighteenth year of her age. 
The fortune-hunters have already cast their eyes upon her, 
and take care to plant themselves in her view whenever she 
appears in any public assembly. I have myself caught a 
young jack-a-napes, with a pair of silver fringed gloves, in 
the very fact. You must know, sir, I have kept her as a 
prisoner of state ever since she was in her teens. Her 
chamber windows are cross-barred, she is not permitted 
to go out of the house but with her keeper, who is a stayed 
relation of my own ; I have likewise forbid her the use of 
pen and ink for this twelve months last past, and do not 
suffer a band-box to be carried into her room before it has 
been searched. Notwithstanding these precautions, I am 
at my wits' end for fear of any sudden surprise. There 
were, two or three nights ago, some fiddles heard in the 
street, which I am afraid portend me no good ; not to men- 
tion a tall Irishman, that has been walking before my house 
more than once this winter. My kinswoman likewise in- 
forms me, that the girl has talked to her twice or thrice of 
a gentleman in a fair wig, and that she loves to go to 
church more than ever she did in her life. She gave me 
the slip about a week ago, upon which my whole house was 
in alarm. I immediately despatched a hue and cry after 
her to the Change, to her mantua-maker, and to the young 
ladies that visit her ; but after above an bourn's search she re- 
turned of herself, having been taking a walk, as she told me. 



THE FORTUNE HUNTER. IO3 

by Rosamond's pond. I have hereupon turned off her 
woman, doubled her guards, and given new instructions to 
my relation, who, to give her her due, keeps a watchful eye 
over all her motions. This, sir, keeps me in a perpetual 
anxiety, and makes me very often watch when my daughter 
sleeps, as I am afraid she is even with me in her turn. 
Now, sir, what I would desire of you is, to represent to 
this fluttering tribe of young fellows, who are for making 
their fortunes by these indirect means, that stealing a 
man's daughter for the sake of her portion, is but a kind 
of tolerated robbery; and that they make but a poor 
amends to the father, whom they plunder after this manner, 
by going to bed with his child. Dear sir, be speedy in 
your thoughts on this subject, that, if possible, they may 
appear before the disbanding of the army. 
I am, sir. 

Your most humble servant, 

Tim. Watchwell. 



Themistocles, the great Athenian general, being 
asked whether he would choose to marry his daughter 
to an indigent man of merit, or to a worthless man of 
an estate, replied, that he would prefer a man without 
an estate, to an estate without a man. The worst of 
it is our modern fortune-hunters are those who turn 
their heads that way, because they are good for nothing 
else. If a young fellow finds he can make nothing of 
Cook and Littleton, he provides himself with a ladder 
of ropes, and by that means very often enters upon 
the premises. 

The same art of scaling has likewise been practised 
with good success by many military engineers. Strata- 
gems of this nature make parts and industry super- 
fluous, and cut short the way to riches. 

Nor is vanity a less motive than idleness to this 
kind of mercenary pursuit. A fop who admires his 
person in a glass, soon enters into a resolution of 



I04 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 

making his fortune by it, not questioning but every 
woman that falls in his way will do him as much jus- 
tice as he does himself When an heiress sees a man 
throwing particular graces into his ogle, or talking 
loud within her hearing, she ought to look to herself; 
but if withal she observes a pair of red- heels, a patch, 
or any other particularity in his dress, she cannot take 
too much care of her person. These are baits not 
to be trifled with, charms that have done a world of 
execution, and made their way into hearts which have 
been thought impregnable. The force of a man with 
these qualifications is so well known, that I am cred- 
ibly informed there are several female undertakers 
about the Change, who upon the arrival of a likely 
man out of a neighbouring kingdom, will furnish him 
with proper dress from head to foot, to be paid for at 
double price on the day of marriage. 

We must, however, distinguish between fortune- 
hunters and fortune-stealers. The first are those 
assiduous gentlemen who employ their whole lives in 
the chase, without ever coming at the quarry. Suffenus 
has combed and powdered at the ladies for thirty years 
together, and taken his stand in a side box, till he is 
grown wrinkled under their eyes. He is now laying 
the same snares for the present generation of beauties, 
which he practised on their mothers. Cottilus, after 
having made his applications to more than you meet 
with in Mr. Cowley's ballad of mistresses, was at last 
smitten with a city lady of ;£2 0,000 sterling; but died 
of old age before he could bring matters to bear. Nor 
must I here omit my worthy friend Mr. Ploneycomb, 
who has often told us in the club, that for twenty years 
successively, upon the death of a childless rich man, 
he immediately drew on his boots, called for his horse, 
and made up to the widow. When he is rallied upon 



TOM FOLIO. 105 

his ill success, Will, with his usual gaiety tells us, that 
he always found her pre-engaged. 

Widows are indeed the great game of your fortune- 
hunters. There is scarce a young fellow in the town 
of six foot high, that has not passed in review before 
one or other of these wealthy rehcs. Hudibras's 
Cupid, who 

— took his stand 
Upon a widow's jointure land, 

is daily employed in throwing darts and kindhng 
flames. But as for widows, they are such a subtle 
generation of people, that they may be left to their 
own conduct ; or if they make a false step in it, they 
are answerable for it to nobody but themselves. The 
young innocent creatures who have no knowledge and 
experience of the world, are those whose safety I 
would principally consult in this speculation. The 
stealing of such an one should, in my opinion, be as 
punishable as a rape. Where there is no judgment, 
there is no choice ; and why the inveigling a woman 
before she is come to years of discretion, should not 
be as criminal as the seducing of her before she is ten 
years old, I am at a loss to comprehend. 



TOM FOLIO. 

Tom Folio is a broker in learning, employed to get 
together good editions, and stock the libraries of great 
men. There is not a sale of books begins till Tom 
Folio is seen at the door. There is not an auction 
where his name is not heard, and that too in the very 
nick of time, in the critical moment, before the last 



I06 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 

decisive stroke of the hammer. There is not a sub- 
scription goes forward, in which Tom is not privy 
to the first rough draught of the proposals ; nor a 
catalogue printed, that doth not come to him wet 
from the press. He is an universal scholar, so far as 
the title-page of all authors, knows the manuscripts 
in which they were discovered, the editions through 
which they have passed, with the praises or censures 
which they have received /rom the several members 
of the learned world. He has a greater esteem for 
Aldus and Elzevir, than for Virgil and Horace. If 
you talk of Herodotus, he breaks out into a panegyric 
upon Harry Stephens. He thinks he gives you an 
account of an author, when he tells the subject he 
treats of, the name of the editor, and the year in 
which it was printed. Or if you draw him into further 
particulars, he cries up the goodness of the paper, 
extols the diligence of the corrector, and is trans- 
ported with the beauty of the letter. This he looks 
upon to be sound learning and substantial criticism. 
As for those who talk of the fineness of style, and the 
justness of thought, or describe the brightness of any 
particular passages ; nay, though they write them- 
selves in the genius and spirit of the author they ad- 
mire, Tom looks upon them as men of superficial 
learning and flashy parts. 

I had yesterday morning a visit from this learned 
idiot, (for that is the light in which I consider every 
pedant,) when I discovered in him some Httle touches 
of the coxcomb, which I had not before observed. 
Being very full of the figure which he makes in the 
repubhc of letters, and wonderfully satisfied with his 
great stock of knowledge, he gave me broad intima- 
tions, that he did not ' beheve ' in all points as his 
forefathers had done. He then communicated to 



TOM FOLIO. 107 

me a thought of a certain author upon a passage of 
Virgil's account of the dead, which I made the subject 
of a late paper. This thought hath taken very much 
among men of Tom's pitch and understanding, though 
universally exploded by all that know how to construe 
Virgil, or have any relish of antiquity. Not to trouble 
my reader with it, I found upon the whole, that Tom 
did not believe a future state of rewards and punish- 
ments, because yEneas, at his leaving the empire of 
the dead, passed through the gate of ivory, and not 
through that of horn. Knowing that Tom had not 
sense enough to give up an opinion which he had 
once received, that he might avoid wrangling, I told 
him, that Virgil possibly had his oversights as well 
as another author. ' Ah ! Mr. Bickerstaffe,' says he, 
' you would have another opinion of him, if you would 
read him in Daniel Heinsius's edition. I have perused 
him myself several times in that edition,' continued 
he ; 'and after the strictest and most mahcious ex- 
amination, could find but two faults in him : one of 
them is in the ^neid, where there are two commas 
instead of a parenthesis ; and another in the third 
Georgic, where you may find a semicolon turned 
upside down.' ' Perhaps,' (said I,) ' these were not 
Virgil's thoughts, but those of the transcriber.' * I do 
not design it,' says Tom, ' as a reflection on Virgil : 
on the contrary, I know that all the manuscripts 
"reclaim" against such a punctuation. Oh! Mr. 
Bickerstaffe,' says he, ' what would a man give to 
see one simile of Virgil writ in his own hand ? ' I 
asked him which was the simile he meant ; but was 
answered, ' Any simile in Virgil.' He then told me 
all the secret history in the commonwealth of learn- 
ing ; of modern pieces that had the names of ancient 
authors annexed to them ; of all the books that were 



I08 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 

now writing or printing in the several parts of Europe ; 
of many amendments which are made, and not yet 
published ; and a thousand other particulars, which 
I would not have my memory burthened with for a 
Vatican. 

At length, being fully persuaded that I thoroughly 
admired him, and looked upon him as a prodigy of 
learning, he took his leave. I know several of Tom's 
class who are professed admirers of Tasso without 
understanding a word of Italian ; and one in par- 
ticular, that carries a Pastor Fido in his pocket, in 
which I am sure he is acquainted with no other 
beauty but the clearness of the character. 

There is another kind of pedant, who, with all Tom 
Folio's impertinencies, hath greater superstructures 
and embellishments of Greek and Latin, and is still 
more insupportable than the other, in the same de- 
gree as he is more learned. Of this kind very often 
are editors, commentators, interpreters, scholiasts, and 
critics ; and in short, all men of deep learning with- 
out common sense. These persons set a greater 
value on themselves for having found out the mean- 
ing of a passage in Greek, than upon the author for 
having written it ; nay, will allow the passage itself 
not to have any beauty in it, at the same time that 
they would be considered as the greatest men in the 
age for having interpreted it. They will look with 
contempt upon the most beautiful poems that have 
been composed by any of their contemporaries ; but 
will lock themselves up in their studies for a twelve- 
month together, to correct, publish, and expound, 
such trifles of antiquity as a modern author would be 
contemned for. Men of the strictest morals, severest 
lives, and the gravest professions, will write volumes 
upon an idle sonnet that is originally in Greek or 



THE MAN OF THE TOWN. IO9 

Latin ; give editions of the most immoral authors, and 
spin out whole pages upon the various readings of a 
lewd expression. All that can be said in excuse for 
them is, that their works sufficiently show they have 
no taste of their authors ; and that what they do in 
this kind, is out of their great learning, and not out of 
any levity or lasciviousness of temper. 

A pedant of this nature is wonderfully well de- 
scribed in six lines of Boileau, with which I shall 
conclude his character : 

Un Pedant enyvre de sa vaine science, 
Tout herisse de Grec, tout bouffi d'arrogance, 
Et qui de mille Auteurs retenus mot pour mot, 
Dans sa tete entassez n'a souvent fait qu'un Sot, 
Croit qu'un Livre fait tout, et que sans Aristote 
La Raison ne voit goute, et le bon Sens radote. 



THE MAN OF THE TOWN. 

My friend Will. Honeycomb values himself very 
much upon what he calls the knowledge of mankind, 
which has cost him many disasters in his youth ; for 
Will, reckons every misfortune that he has met with 
among the women, and every rencounter among the 
men, as parts of his education, and fancies he should 
never have been the man he is, had not he broke 
windows, knocked down constables, disturbed honest 
people with his midnight serenades, and beat time up 
a lewd woman's quarters, when he was a young 
fellow. The engaging in adventures of this nature 
Will, calls the studying of mankind ; and terms this 
knowledge of the town, the knowledge of the world. 
Will, ingenuously confesses, that for half his life his 



no HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 

head ached every morning with reading of men over- 
night ; and at present comforts himself under certain 
■ pains which he endures from time to time, that without 
them he could not have been acquainted with the 
gallantries of the age. This Will, looks upon as the 
learning of a gentleman, and regards all other kinds 
of science as the accomplishments of one whom he 
calls a scholar, a bookish man, or a philosopher. 

For these reasons Will, shines in mixed company^ 
where he has the discretion not to go out of his 
depth, and has often a certain way of making his real 
ignorance appear a seeming one. Our club, however, 
has frequently caught him tripping, at which times 
they never spare him. For as Will, often insults us 
with the knowledge of the town, we sometimes take 
our revenge upon him by our knowledge of books. 

He was last week producing two or three letters 
which he writ in his youth to a coquette lady. The 
raillery of them was natural, and well enough for a 
mere man of the town ; but, very unluckily, several 
of the words were wrong spelt. Will, laught this off 
at first as well as he could, but finding himself pushed 
on all sides, and especially by the templar, he told us, 
with a little passion, that he never liked pedantry in 
spelling, and that he spelt like a gentleman, and not 
like a scholar : upon this Will, had recourse to his 
old topic of showing the narrow-spiritedness, the pride, 
and ignorance of pedants ; which he carried so far, 
that upon my retiring to my lodgings, I could not 
forbear throwing together such reflections as occurred 
to me upon that subject. 

A man who has been brought up among books, and 
is able to talk of nothing else, is a very indifferent 
companion, and what we call a pedant. But, methinks, 
we should enlarge the title, and give it every one that 



THE MAN OF THE TOWN. I I I 

does not know how to think out of his profession, and 
particular way of Hfe. 

What is a greater pedant than a mere man of the 
town ? Bar him the play-houses, a catalogue of the 
reigning beauties, and an account of a few fashionable 
distempers that have befallen him, and you strike him 
dumb. How many a pretty gentlemim's knowledge 
lies all within the verge of the court ? He will tell 
you the names of the principal favourites, repeat the 
shrewd sayings of a man of quality, whisper an intrigue 
that is not yet blown upon by common fame ; or, if 
the sphere of his observations is a little larger than 
ordinary, will perhaps enter into all the incidents, 
turns, and revolutions in a game of ombre. When he 
has gone thus far, he has shown you the whole circle 
of his accomplishments, his parts are drained, and he 
is disabled from any further conversation. What are 
these but rank pedants ? and yet these are the men 
who value themselves most on their exemption from 
the pedantry of colleges. 

I might here mention the military pedant, who 
always talks in a camp, and is storming towns, making 
lodgments, and fighting battles from one end of the 
year to the other. Everything he speaks smells of 
gunpowder ; if you take away his artillery from him, 
he has not a word to say for himself. I might likewise 
mention the law pedant, that is perpetually putting 
cases, repeating the transactions of Westminster Hall, 
wrangling with you upon the most indifferent circum- 
stances of life, and not to be convinced of the distance 
of a place, or of the most trivial point in conversation, 
but by dint of argument. The state pedant is wrapped 
up in news, and lost in politics. If you mention either 
of the kings of Spain or Poland, he talks very notably ; 
but if you go out of the gazette, you drop him. In 



112 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 

short, a mere courtier, a mere soldier, a mere scholar, 
a mere anything, is an insipid pedantic character, and 
equally ridiculous. 

Of all the species of pedants, which I have men- 
tioned, the book pedant is much the most supportable ; 
he has at least an exercised understanding, and a head 
which is full though confused, so that a man who 
converses with him may often receive from him hints 
of things that are worth knowing, and what he may 
possibly turn to his own advantage, though they are 
of little use to the owner. The worst kind of pedants 
among learned men, are such as are naturally endowed 
with a very small share of common sense, and have read 
a great number of books without taste or distinction. 

The truth of it is, learning, like travelling, and all 
other methods of improvement, as it finishes good 
sense, so it makes a silly man ten thousand times 
more insufferable, by supplying variety of matter to 
his impertinence, and giving him an opportunity of 
abounding in absurdities. 



THE TRUNK-MAKER AT THE PLAY. 

There is nothing which lies more within the 
province of a Spectator than public shows and diver- 
sions ; and as among these there are none which can 
pretend to vie with those elegant entertainments that 
are exhibited in our theatres, I think it particularly 
incumbent on me to take notice of everything that is 
remarkable in such numerous and refined assemblies. 

It is observed, that of late years there has been a 
certain person in the upper gallery of the play-house, 
who, when he is pleased with anything that is acted 



THE TRUNK-MAKER AT THE PLAY. II3 

Upon the stage, expresses his approbation by a loud 
knock upon the benches or the wainscot, which may 
be heard over the whole theatre. This person is com- 
monly known by the name of the ' Trunk-maker in the 
upper gallery.' Whether it be, that the blow he gives 
on these occasions resembles that which is often heard 
in the shops of such artisans, or that he was supposed 
to have been a real trunk-maker, who, after the finish- 
ing of his day's work, used to unbend his mind at 
these pubhc diversions with his hammer in his hand, 
I cannot certainly tell. There are some, 1 know, who 
have been foolish enough to imagine it is a spirit 
which haunts the upper gallery, and from time to time 
makes those strange noises ; and the rather, because he 
is observed to be louder than ordinary every time the 
ghost of Hamlet appears. Others have reported that 
it is a dumb man, who has chosen this way of utter- 
ing himself, when he is transported with anything he sees 
or hears. Others will have it to be the play-house 
thunderer, that exerts himself after this manner in the 
upper gallery, when he has nothing to do upon the roof. 

But having made it my business to get the best in- 
formation I could in a matter of this moment, I find 
that the Trunk-maker, as he is commonly called, is a 
large black man, whom nobody knows. He generally 
leans forward on a huge oaken plant, with great 
attention to everything that passes upon the stage. 
He is never seen to smile ; but upon hearing anything 
that pleases him, he takes up his staff with both 
hands, and lays it upon the next piece of timber that 
stands in his way with exceeding vehemence : after 
which he composes himself in his former posture, till 
such time as something new sets him again at work. 

It has been observed, his blow is so well timed, that 
the most judicious critic could never except against it. 



114 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 

As soon as any shining thought is expressed in the 
poet, or any uncommon grace appears in the actor, he 
smites the bench or wainscot. If the audience does 
not concur with him, he smites a second time ; and if 
the audience is not yet awaked, looks round him wdth 
great wrath, and repeats the blow a third time, which 
never fails to produce the clap. He sometimes lets the 
audience begin the clap of themselves, and at the con- 
clusion of their applause ratifies it with a single thwack. 

He is of so great use to the play-house, that it is 
said a former director of it, upon his not being able 
to pay his attendance by reason of sickness, kept one 
in pay to officiate for him till such time as he re- 
covered ; but the person so employed, though he laid 
about him with incredible violence, did it in such 
wrong places, that the audience soon found out that 
it was not their old friend the Trunk-maker. 

It has been remarked, that he has not yet exerted 
himself with vigour this season. He sometimes plies 
at the opera ; and upon Nicolini's first appearance, 
was said to have demolished three benches in the fury 
of his applause. He has broken half a dozen oaken 
plants upon Dogget ; and seldo.m goes away from a 
tragedy of Shakespeare, without leaving the wainscot 
extremely shattered. 

The players do not only connive at this his ob- 
streperous approbation, but very cheerfully repair at 
their own cost whatever damage he makes. They had 
once a thought of erecting a kind of wooden anvil for 
his use, that should be made of a very sounding plank, 
in order to render his strokes more deep and mellow ; 
but as this might not have been distinguished from the 
music of a kettle-drum, the project was laid aside. 

In the mean while I cannot but take notice of the 
great use it is to an audience, that a person should 



THE TRUNK-MAKER AT THE PLAY. II5 

thus preside over their heads, Hke the director of a 
concert, in order to awaken their attention, and beat 
time to their applauses ; or, to raise my simile, I have 
sometimes fancied the Trunk-maker in the upper 
gallery to be like Virgil's ruler of the wind, seated 
upon the top of a mountain, who, when he struck his 
sceptre upon the side of it, roused an hurricane, and 
set the whole cavern in an uproar. 

It is certain the Trunk-maker has saved many a 
good play, and brought many a graceful actor into 
reputation, who would not otherwise have been taken 
notice of. It is very visible, as the audience is not 
a little abashed if they find themselves betrayed into 
a clap, when their friend in the upper gallery does not 
come into it; so the actors do not value themselves 
upon the clap, but regard it as a mere brtitum fiilmen, 
or empty noise, when it has not the sound of the 
oaken plant in it. I know it has been given out by 
those who are enemies to the Trunk-maker, that he 
has sometimes been bribed to be in the interest of a 
bad poet, or a vicious player; but this is a surmise 
which has no foundation ; his strokes are always just, 
and his admonitions seasonable; he does not deal 
about his blows at random, but always hits the right 
nail upon the head. That inexpressible force where- 
with he lays them on, sufficiently shows the evidence 
and strength of his conviction. His zeal for a good 
author is indeed outrageous, and breaks down every 
fence and partition, every board and plank, that stands 
within the expression of his applause. 

As I do not care for terminating my thoughts in 
barren speculations, or in reports of pure matter of 
fact, without drawing something from them for the 
advantage of my countrymen, I shall take the liberty 
to make an humble proposal, that whenever the 



Il6 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 

Trunk-maker shall depart this life, or whenever he 
shall have lost the spring of his arm by sickness, old 
age, infirmity, or the like, some able-bodied critic 
should be advanced to this post, and have a com- 
petent salary settled on him for life, to be furnished 
with bamboos for operas, crab-tree cudgels for 
comedies, and oaken plants for tragedy, at the public 
expense. And to the end that this place should be 
always disposed of according to merit, I would have 
none preferred to it, who has not given convincing 
proofs both of a sound judgment and a strong arm, 
and who could not, upon occasion, either knock down 
an ox, or write a comment upon Horace's Art of 
Poetry. In short, I would have him a due composition 
of Hercules and Apollo, and so rightly qualified for 
this important office, that the Trunk-maker may not 
be missed by our posterity. 



COFFEE-HOUSE POLITICIANS. 

When I consider this great city in its several quar- 
ters and divisions, I look upon it as an aggregate of 
various nations distinguished from each other by their 
respective customs, manners, and interests. The courts 
of two countries do not so much differ from one another, 
as the court and city in their peculiar ways of life and 
conversation. In short, the inhabitants of St. James's, 
notwithstanding they live under the same laws, and 
speak the same language, are a distinct people from 
those of Cheapside, who are likewise removed from 
those of the Temple on the one side, and those of 
Smithfield on the other, by several climates and de- 
grees in their way of thinking and conversing together. 



COFFEE-HOUSE POLITICIANS. .117 

For this reason, when any pubHc affair is upon the 
anvil, I love to hear the reflections that arise upon it 
in the several districts and parishes of London and 
Westminster, and to ramble up and down a whole 
day together, in order to make myself acquainted 
with the opinions of my ingenious countrymen. By 
this means I know the faces of all the principal poli- 
ticians within the bills of mortality ; and as every 
coffee-house has some particular statesman belonging 
to it, who is the mouth of the street where he lives, I 
always take care to place myself near him, in order to 
know his judgment on the present posture of affairs. 
The last progress that I made with this intention was 
about three months ago, when we had a current re- 
port of the king of France's death. As I foresaw this 
would produce a new face of things in Europe, and 
many curious speculations in our British coffee-houses, 
I was very desirous to learn the thoughts of our most 
eminent politicians on that occasion. 

That I might begin as near the fountain-head as 
possible, I first of all called in at St. James's, where 
I found the whole outward room in a buzz of poHtics. 
The speculations were but very indifferent towards 
the door, but grew finer as you advanced to the upper 
end of the room, and were so very much improved by 
a knot of theorists who sat in the inner room, within the 
steams of the coffee-pot, that I there heard the whole 
Spanish monarchy disposed of, and all the hne of Bour- 
bon provided for, in less than a quarter of an hour. 

I afterwards called in at Giles's, where I saw a 
board of French gentlemen sitting upon the life and 
death of their Grand Monarqiie. Those among them 
who had espoused the Whig interest, very positively 
affirmed, that he departed this Hfe about a week since, 
and therefore proceeded without any further delay to 



Il8 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 

the release of their friends on the galleys, and to theii 
own re-establishment ; but finding they could not 
agree among themselves, I proceeded on my intended 
progress. 

Upon my arrival at Jenny Man's, I saw an alert 
young fellow that cocked his hat upon a friend of his 
who entered just at the same time with myself, and 
accosted him after the following manner : ' VVell Jack, 
the old prig is dead at last. Sharp 's the word. Now 
or never boy. Up to the walls of Paris directly.' With 
several other deep reflections of the same nature. 

I met with very little variation in the politics be- 
tween Charing Cross and Covent Garden. And upon 
my going into Will.'s, I found their discourse was gone 
off from the death of the French king to that of Mon- 
sieur Boileau, Racine, Corneille, and several other 
poets, whom they regretted on this occasion, as 
persons who would have obliged the world with very 
noble elegies on the death of so great a prince, and 
so eminent a patron of learning. 

At a coffee-house near the Temple, I found a couple 
of young gentlemen engaged v^ery smartly in a dispute 
on the succession to the Spanisli monarchy. One of 
them seemed to have been retained as advocate for 
the Duke of Anjou, the other for his Imperial Majesty. 
They were both for regulating the title to that king- 
dom by the statute laws of England ; but finding them 
going out of my depth, I passed forward to Paul's 
Churchyard, where I listened with great attention to 
a learned man, who gave the company an account of 
the deplorable state of France during the minority of 
the deceased king. 

I then turned on my right hand into Fish Street, 
where the chief politician of that quarter, upon hearing 
the news, (after having taken a pipe of tobacco, andj 



COFFEE-HOUSE POLITICIANS. II 9 

ruminating for some time,) ' If,' says he, ' the king of 
France is certainly dead, we shall have plenty of 
mackerel this season ; our fishery will not be disturbed 
by privateers, as it has been for these ten years past.' 
He afterwards considered how the death of this great 
man would affect our pilchards, and by several other 
remarks infused a general joy into his whole audience. 

I afterwards entered a by coffee-house that stood at 
the upper end of a narrow lane, where I met with a 
Nonjuror, engaged very warmly with a Laceman who 
was the great support of a neighbouring conventicle. 
The matter in debate was, whether the late French 
king was most like Augustus Caesar or Nero. The 
controversy was carried on with great heat on both 
sides, and as each of them looked upon me very 
frequently during the course of their debate, I was 
under some apprehension that they would appeal to 
me, and therefore laid down my penny at the bar, and 
made the best of my way to Cheapside. 

I here gazed upon the signs for some time before 
I found one to my purpose. The first object I met in 
the coffee-room was a person who expressed a great 
grief for the death of the French king ; but upon his 
explaining himself, I found his sorrow did not arise 
from the loss of the monarch, but for his having sold 
out of the bank about three days before he heard the 
news of it ; upon which a haberdasher, who was the 
oracle of the coffee-house, and had his circle of ad- 
mirers about him, called several to witness that he 
had declared his opinion above a week before, that 
the French king was certainly dead ; to which he 
added, that considering the late advices we had 
received from France, it was impossible that it could 
be otherwise. As he was laying these together, and 
dictating to his hearers with great authority, there 



I20 * HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 

came in a gentleman from Garraway's, who told us 
that there were several letters from France just come 
in, with advice that the king was in good health, and 
was gone out a hunting the very morning the post 
came away : upon which the haberdasher stole off his 
hat that hung upon a wooden peg by him, and retired 
to his shop with great confusion. This intelligence 
put a stop to my travels, which 1 had prosecuted with 
much satisfaction ; not being a little pleased to hear 
so many different opinions upon so great an event, 
and to observe how naturally upon such a piece of 
news every one is apt to consider it with a regard to 
his own particular interest and advantage. • 



LONDON CRIES. 

There is nothing which more astonishes a foreigner 
and frights a country squire, than the Cries of London. 
My good friend Sir Roger often declares, that he can- 
not get them out of his head, or go to sleep for them, 
the first week that he is in town. On the contrary, 
Will. Honeycomb calls them the Ramage de la Ville, 
and prefers them to the sounds of larks and nightin- 
gales, with all the music of the fields and woods. I 
have lately received a letter from some very odd 
fellow upon this subject, which I shall leave with my 
reader, without saying anything further of it. 

Sir, 

I am a man out of all business, and would willingly 
turn my head to anything for an honest livelihood. I 
have invented several projects for raising many millions of 
money without burthening the subject, but I cannot get 
the parliament to listen to me, who look upon me, for- 



LONDON CRIES. 121 

sooth, as a crack and a projector ; so that despairing to 
enrich either myself or my country by this pubHc-spirited- 
ness, I would make some proposals to you relating to a 
design which I have very much at heart, and which may 
procure me an handsome subsistence, if you will be pleased 
to recommend it to the cities of London and Westminster. 

The post I would aim at is to be Comptroller-general 
of the London Cries, which are at present under no man- 
ner of rules or discipline. I think I am pretty well quali- 
fied for this place, as being a man of very strong lungs, of 
great insight into all the branches of our British trades 
and manufactures, and of a competent skill in music. 

The cries of London may be divided into vocal and 
instrumental. As for the latter, they are at present under 
a very great disorder. A freeman of London has the 
privilege of disturbing a whole street, for an hour together, 
with the twanking of a brass-kettle or a frying-pan. The 
watchman's thump at midnight startles us in our beds as 
much as the breaking in of a thief. The sow-gelder's horn 
has indeed something musical in it, but this is seldom heard 
within the liberties. I would therefore propose, that no 
instrument of this nature should be made use of, which 
I have not tuned and licensed, after having carefully ex- 
amined in what manner it may affect the ears of her 
Majesty's liege subjects. 

Vocal cries are of a much larger extent, and, indeed, so 
full of incongruities and barbarisms, that we appear a dis- 
tracted city to foreigners, who do not comprehend the 
meaning of such enormous outcries. Milk is generally 
sold in a note above ela^ and it sounds so exceeding shrill, 
that it often sets our teeth on edge. The chimney- 
sweeper is confined to no certain pitch ; he sometimes 
utters himself in the deepest bass, and sometimes in the 
sharpest treble; sometimes in the highest, and sometimes 
in the lowest note of the gamut. The same observation 
might be made on the retailers of small coal, not to men- 
tion broken glasses or brick-dust. In these, therefore, and 
the like cases, it should be my care to sweeten and mel- 
low the voices of these itinerant tradesmen, before they 
make their appearance in our streets, as also to accommo- 



122 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. i 

date their cries to their respective wares ; and to take 
care in particular that those may not make the most noise 
who have the least to sell, which is very observable in the 
venders of card-matches, to whom I cannot but apply that 
old proverb of " Much cry, but little wool.'' 

Some of these last-mentioned musicians are so very loud 
in the sale of these trifling manufactures, that an honest 
splenetic gentleman of my acquaintance bargained with 
one of them never to come into the street where he lived : 
but what was the effect of this contract ? why, the whole 
tribe of card-matchmakers which frequent the quarter, 
passed by his door the very next day, in hopes of being 
bought off after the same manner. 

It is another great imperfection in our London cries, 
that there is no just time nor measure observed in them. 
Our news should, indeed, be published in a very quick 
time, because it is a commodity that will not keep cold. It 
should not, however, be cried with the same precipitation 
as " fire '' : yet this is generally the case. A bloody battle 
alarms the town from one end to another in an instant. 
Every motion of the French is published in so great a 
hurry, that one would think the enemy were at our gates. 
This likewise I would take upon me to regulate in such a 
manner, that there should be some distinction made between 
the spreading of a victory, a march, or an encampment, a 
Dutch, a Portugal, or a Spanish mail. Nor must I omit 
under this head, those excessive alarms with which several 
boisterous rustics infest our streets in turnip season ; and 
which are more inexcusable, because these are wares which 
are in no danger of cooling upon their hands. 

There are others who affect a very slow time, and are, 
in my opinion, much more tunable than the former; the 
cooper, in particular, swells his last note in an hollow voice, 
that is not without its harmony : nor can I forbear being 
inspired with a most agreeable melancholy, when I hear 
that sad and solemn air with which the public is very often 
asked, if they have any chairs to mend ? Your own memory 
may suggest to you many other lamentable ditties of the 
same nature, in which the music is wonderfully languishing 
and melodious. 



LONDON CRIES. 123 

I am always pleased with that particular time of the 
year which is proper for the pickling of dill and cucumbers ; 
but, alas, this cry, like the song of the nightingale, is not 
heard above two months. It would, therefore, be worth 
while to consider whether the same air might not in some 
cases be adapted to other words. 

It might likewise deserve our most serious considera- 
tion, how far, in a well-regulated city, those humourists are 
to be tolerated, who, not contented with the traditional 
cries of their forefathers, have invented particular songs 
and tunes of their own : such as was, not many years since, 
the pastry-man, commonly known by the name of the colly- 
molly-puff; and such as is at this day the vender of powder 
and wash-balls, who, if I am rightly informed, goes under 
the name of Powder Watt. 

I must not here omit one particular absurdity which 
runs through this whole vociferous generation, and which 
renders their cries very often not only incommodious, but 
altogether useless to the public ; I mean that idle accom- 
plishment which they all of them aim at, of crying so as 
not to be understood. Whether or no they have learned 
this from several of our affected singers, I will not take 
upon me to say ; but most certain it is, that people know 
the wares they deal in rather by their tunes than by their 
words ; insomuch, that I have sometimes seen a country 
boy run out to buy apples of a bellows-mender, and ginger- 
bread from a grinder of knives and scissars. Nay, so 
strangely infatuated are some very eminent artists of this 
particular grace in a cry, that none but their acquaintance 
are able to guess at their profession ; for who else can 
know that, ' Work if I had it,' should be the signification 
of a corn-cutter. 

Forasmuch, therefore, as persons of this rank are seldom 
men of genius or capacity, I think it would be very proper, 
that some man of good sense, and sound judgment, should 
preside over these public cries, who should permit none to 
lift up their voices in our streets, that have not tuneable 
throats, and are not only able to overcome the noise of the 
crowd, and the rattling of coaches, but also to vend their 
respective merchandises in apt phrases, and in the most 



124 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 

distinct and agreeable sounds. I do therefore humbly 
recommend myself as a person rightly qualified for this 
post : and if I meet with fitting encouragement, shall 
communicate some other projects which I have by me, 
that may no less conduce to the emolument of the public. 

I am, sir, &c. 

Ralph Crotchet. 



THE CAT-CALL. 

I HAVE lately received the following letter from a 
country gentleman. 

Mr. Spectator, 

The night before I left London I went to see a 
play, called, The Humorous Lieutenant. Upon the rising 
of the curtain I was very much surprised with the great 
consort of cat-calls which was exhibited that evening, and 
began to think with myself that I had made a mistake, and 
gone to a music-meeting instead of the play-house. It 
appeared, indeed, a little odd to me, to see so many persons 
of quality of both sexes assembled together at a kind of 
caterwauling ; for I cannot look upon that performance to 
have been anything better, whatever the musicians them- 
selves might think of it. As I had no acquaintance in the 
house to ask questions of, and was forced to go out of town 
early the next morning, I could not learn the secret of this 
matter. What I would therefore desire of you, is, to give 
some account of this strange instrument, which I found the 
company called a cat-call ; and particularly to let me know 
whether it be a piece of music lately come from Italy. For 
my own part, to be free with you, I would rather hear an 
English fiddle ; though I durst not show my dislike whilst 
I was in the play-house, it being my chance to sit the very . 
next man to one of the performers. 

I am, sir. 
Your most affectionate friend and servant, 
John Shallow, Esq. 



THE CAT-CALL. 125 

In compliance with 'Squire Shallow's request, I 
design this paper as a dissertation upon the cat-call. 
In order to make myself a master of the subject, I 
purchased one the beginning of last week, though not 
without great difficulty, being informed at two or three 
toy-shops that the players had lately bought them all 
up. I have since consulted many learned antiquaries 
in relation to its original, and find them very much 
divided among themselves upon that particular. A 
Fellow of the Royal Society, who is my good friend, 
and a great proficient in the mathematical part of 
music, concludes from the simplicity of its make, and 
the uniformity of its sound, that the cat-call is older 
than any of the inventions of Jubal. He observes 
very well, that musical instruments took their first rise 
from the notes of birds, and other melodious animals ; 
and what, says he, was more natural than for the first 
ages of mankind to imitate the voice of a cat that lived 
under the same roof with them ? he added, that the 
cat had contributed more to harmony than any other 
animal ; as we are not only beholden to her for this 
wind-instrument, but for our string music in general. 

Another virtuoso of my acquaintance will not allow 
the cat-call to be older than Thespis, and is apt to 
think it appeared in the world soon after the ancient 
comedy ; for which reason it has still a place in our 
dramatic entertainments : nor must I here omit what 
a curious gentleman, who is lately returned from his 
travels, has more than once assured me, namely, that 
there was lately dug up at Rome the statue of a 
Momus, who holds an instrument in his right hand 
very much resembling our modern cat- call. 

There are others who ascribe this invention to 
Orpheus, and look upon the cat-call to be one of 
those instruments which that famous musician made 



126 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 

use of to draw the beasts about him. It is certain, 
that the roasting of a cat does not call together a 
greater audience of that species, than this instrument, 
if dexterously played upon in proper time and place. 

But notwithstanding these various and learned con- 
jectures, I cannot forbear thinking that the cat-call is 
originally a piece of English music. Its resemblance 
to the voice of some of our British songsters, as well 
as the use of it, which is peculiar to our nation, con- 
firms me in this opinion. It has at least received great 
improvements among us, whether we consider the in- 
strument itself, or those several quavers and graces 
which are thrown into the playing of it. Every one 
might be sensible of this, who heard that remarkable 
overgrown cat-call which was placed in the centre of 
the pit, and presided over all the rest at the celebrated 
performance lately exhibited in Drury Lane. 

Having said thus much concerning the original of 
the cat-call, we are in the next place to consider the 
use of it. The cat-call exerts itself to most advantage 
in the British theatre : it very much improves the 
sound of nonsense, and often goes along with the 
voice of the actor who pronounces it, as the violin or 
harpsichord accompanies Jhe Italian recitativo. 

It has often supphed the place of the ancient chorus, 

in the words of Mr. . In short, a bad poet has 

as great an antipathy to a cat-call, as many people 
have to a real cat. 

Mr. Collier, in his ingenious essay upon music, has 
the following passage : — 

'I believe it is possible to invent an instrument that 
shall have a quite contrary effect to those martial ones 
now in use : an instrument that shall sink the spirits, 
and shake the nerves, and curdle the blood, and in- 
spire despair, and cowardice, and consternation, at a 



THE CAT-CALL. 12/ 

surprising rate. It is probable the roaring of a lion, 
the warbling of cats and screech-owls, together with a 
mixture of the howling of dogs, judiciously imitated and 
compounded, might go a great way in this invention. 
Whether such anti-music as this might not be of service 
in a camp, I shall leave to the military men to consider.' 

What this learned gentleman supposes in specula- 
tion, I have known actually verified in practice. The 
cat-call has struck a damp into generals, and frighted 
heroes off the stage. At the first sound of it I have 
seen a crowned head tremble, and a princess fall into 
fits. The humorous lieutenant himself could not stand 
it ; nay, I am told that even Almanzor looked hke a 
mouse, and trembled at the voice of this terrifying 
instrument. 

As it is of a dramatic nature, and peculiarly appro- 
priated to the stage, I can by no means approve the 
thought of that angry lover, who, after an unsuccessful 
pursuit of some years, took leave of his mistress in a 
serenade of cat-calls. 

I must conclude this paper with the account I have 
lately received of an ingenious artist, who has long 
studied this instrument, and is very well versed in all 
the rules of the drama. He teaches to play on it by 
book, and to express by it the whole art of criticism. 
He has his base and his treble cat- call; the former 
for tragedy, the latter for comedy ; only in tragi- 
comedies they may both play together in consort. 
He has a particular squeak to denote the violation of 
each of the unities, and has different sounds to show 
whether he aims at the poet or the player. In short, 
he teaches the smut-note, the fustian- note, the stupid- 
note, and has composed a kind of air that may serve 
as an act-tune to an incorrigible play, and which takes 
in the whole compass of the cat-call. 



128 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 



THE NEWSPAPER. 

There is no humour in my countrymen, which I 
am more incHned to wonder at, than their general 
thirst after news. There are about half a dozen in- 
genious men, who hve very plentifully upon this 
curiosity of their fellow-subjects. They all of them 
receive the same advices from abroad, and very often 
in the same words ; but their way of cooking it is so 
different, that there is no citizen, who has an eye to 
the public good, that can leave the coffee-house with 
peace of mind, before he has given every one of them 
a reading. These several dishes of news are so very 
agreeable to the palate of my countrymen, that they 
are not only pleased with them when they are served 
up hot, but when they are again set cold before them 
by those penetrating politicians, who oblige the public 
with their reflections and observations upon every 
piece of intelligence that is sent us from abroad. 
The text is given us by one set of writers, and the 
comment by another. 

But notwithstanding we have the same tale told us 
in so many different papers, and if occasion requires, 
in so many articles of the same paper ; notwithstand- 
ing a scarcity of foreign posts we hear the same story 
repeated, by different advices from Paris, Brussels, 
the Hague, and from every great town in Europe ; 
notwithstanding the multitude of annotations, explana- 
tions, reflections, and various readings which it passes 
through, our time lies heavy on our hands till the 
arrival of a fresh mail : we long to receive further par- 
ticulars, to hear what will be the next step, or what 
will be the consequence of that which has been lately 



THE NEWSPAPER. 1 29 

taken. A westerly wind keeps the whole town in 
suspense, and puts a stop to conversation. 

This general curiosity has been raised and inflamed 
by our late wars, and, if rightly directed, might be of 
good use to a person who has such a thirst awakened 
in him. Why should not a man who takes dehght in 
reading everything that is new, apply himself to his- 
tory, travels, and other writings of the same kind, 
where he will find perpetual fuel for his curiosity, and 
meet with much more pleasure and improvement, 
than in these papers of the week? An honest trades- 
man, who languishes a whole summer in expectation 
of a batde, and perhaps is balked at last, may here 
meet with half a dozen in a day. He may read the 
news of a whole campaign in less time than he now 
bestows upon the products of any single post. Fights, 
conquests, and revolutions lie thick together. The 
reader's curiosity is raised and satisfied every moment, 
and his passions disappointed or gratified, without 
being detained in a state of uncertainty from day to 
day, or lying at the mercy of sea and wind. In short, 
the mind is not here kept in a perpetual gape after 
knowledge, nor punished with that eternal thirst which 
is the portion of all our modern newsmongers and 
coffee-house politicians. 

All matters of fact, which a man did not know 
before, are news to him ; and I do not see how any 
haberdasher in Cheapside is more concerned in the 
present quarrel of the Cantons, than he was in that of 
the League. At least, I believe every one will allow 
me, it is of more importance to an Englishman to 
know the history of his ancestors, than that of his 
contemporaries who live upon the banks of the 
Danube or the Borysthenes. As for those who are 
of another mind, I shall recommend to them the 



130 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 

following letter, from a projector, who is willing to 
turn a penny by this remarkable curiosity of his 
countrymen. 

Mr. Spectator, 

You must have observed, that men who frequent 
coffee-houses, and delight in news, are pleased with every- 
thing that is matter of fact, so it be what they have not 
heard before. A victory, or a defeat, are equally agreeable 
to them. The shutting of a cardinal's mouth pleases them 
one post, and the opening of it another. They are glad to hear 
the French court is removed to Marli, and are afterwards 
as much delighted with its return to Versailles. They read 
the advertisements with the same curiosity as the articles 
of public news ; and are as pleased to hear of a piebald 
horse that is strayed out of a field near Islington, as of a 
whole troop that has been engaged in any foreign adven- 
ture. In short, they have a relish for everything that is 
news, let the matter of it be what it will ; or to speak more 
properly, they are men of a voracious appetite, but no taste. 
Now, sir, since the great fountain of news, I mean the war, 
is very near being dried up ; and since these gentlemen 
have contracted such an inextinguishable thirst after it ; I 
have taken their case and my own into consideration, and 
have thought of a project which may turn to the advantage 
of us both. I have thoughts of publishing a daily paper, 
which shall comprehend in it all the most remarkable occur- 
rences in every little town, village, and hamlet, that lie 
within ten miles of London, or in other words, within the 
verge of the penny-post. I have pitched upon this scene 
of intelligence for two reasons ; first, because the carriage 
of letters will be very cheap ; and secondly, because I may 
receive them every day. By this means my readers will 
have their news fresh and fresh, and many worthy citizens, 
who cannot sleep with any satisfaction at present, for want 
of being informed how the world goes, may go to bed con- 
tentedly, it being my design to put out my paper every 
night at nine-a-clock precisely. I have already established 



THE NEWSPAPER. I3I 

correspondences in these several places, and received very 
good intelligence. 

By my last advices from Knightsbridge I hear that a 
horse was clapped into the pound on the third instant, and 
that he was not released when the letters came away. 

We are informed from Pankridge, that a dozen weddings 
were lately celebrated in the mother-church of that place, 
but are referred to their next letters for the names of the 
parties concerned. 

Letters from Brompton advise, that the widow Blight 
had received several visits^rom John Mildew, which affords 
great matter of speculation in those parts. 

By a fisherman which lately touched at Hammersmith, 
there is advice from Putney, that a certain person well 
known in that place, is like to lose his election for church- 
warden ; but this being boat-news, we cannot give entire 
credit to it. 

Letters from Paddington bring little more than that 
William Squeak, the sow-gelder, passed through that place 
the fifth instant. 

They advise from Fulham, that things remained there 
in the same state they were. They had intelligence, just 
as the letters came away, of a tub of excellent ale just set 
a-broach at Parsons Green ; but this wanted confirmation. 

I have here, sir, given you a specimen of the news with 
which I intend to entertain the town, and which when drawn 
up regularly in the form of a newspaper, will, I doubt not, 
be very acceptable to many of those public-spirited readers, 
who take more delight in acquainting themselves with 
other people's business than their own. I hope a paper of 
this kind, which lets us know what is done near home, may 
be more useful to us than those which are filled with advices 
from Zug and Bender, and make some amends for that 
dearth of intelligence, which we justly apprehend from 
times of peace. If I find that you receive this project 
favourably, I will shortly trouble you with one or two 
more ; and in the mean time am, most worthy sir, with all 
due respect, 

Your most obedient and most humble servant. 



132 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 



COFFEE-HOUSE DEBATES. 

It is sometimes pleasant enough to consider the 
different notions which different persons have of the 
same thing. If men of low condition very often set 
a value on things which are not prized by those who 
are in a higher station of life, there are many things 
these esteem which are in no value among persons 
of an inferior rank. Common'people are, in particular, 
very much astonished, when they hear of those solemn 
contests and debates, which are made among the 
great upon the punctiUos of a public ceremony ; and 
wonder to hear that any business of consequence 
should be retarded by those little circumstances, which 
they represent to themselves as trifling and insignifi- 
cant. I am mightily pleased with a porter's decision 
in one of Mr. Southern's plays, which is founded upon 
that fine distress of a virtuous woman's marrying a 
second husband, while her first was yet living. The 
first husband, who was supposed to have been dead, 
returning to his house after a long absence, raises a 
noble perplexity for the tragic part of the play. In 
the mean while, the nurse and the porter conferring 
upon the difficulties that would ensue in such a case, 
honest Samson thinks the matter may be easily 
decided, and solves it very judiciously, by the old 
proverb, that if his first master be still living, 'The 
man must have his mare again.' There is nothing 
in my time which has so much surprised and con- 
founded the greatest part of my honest countryrrien, 
as the present controversy between Count Rechteren 
and Monsieur Mesnager, which employs the wise 
heads of so many nations, and holds all the affairs of 
Europe in suspense. 



COFFEE-HOUSE DEBATES. 133 

Upon my going into a coffee-house yesterday, and 
lending an ear to the next table, which was encom- 
passed with a circle of inferior politicians, one of 
them, after having read over the news very attentively, 
broke out into the following remarks. * I am afraid 
(says he) this unhappy rupture between the footmen 
at Utrecht will retard the peace of Christendom. I 
wish the pope may not be at the bottom of it. His 
Holiness has a very good hand at fomenting a division, 
as the poor Swiss Cantons have lately experienced to 
their cost. If Monsieur What-d'ye-call-him's domestics 
will not come to an accommodation, I do not know 
how the quarrel can be ended, but by a religious war.' 

' Why truly,' says a wiseacre that sat by him, ' were 
I as the king of France, I would scorn to take part with 
the footmen of either side : here's all the business of 
Europe stands still, because Monsieur Mesnager's man 
has had his head broke. If Count Rectrum had given 
them a pot of ale after it, all would have been well, 
without any of this bustle ; but they say he is a warm 
man, and does not care to be made mouths at.' 

Upon this, one, who had held his tongue hitherto, 
began to exert himself; declaring that he was very 
well pleased the plenipotentiaries of our Christian 
princes took this matter into their serious considera- 
tion ; for that lacqueys were never so saucy and 
pragmatical as they are now-a-days, and that he 
should be glad to see them taken down in the treaty 
of peace, if it might be done without prejudice to the 
public affairs. 

One, who sat at the other end of the table, and 
seemed to be in the interests of the French king, told 
them, that they did not take the matter right, for that 
his most Christian Majesty did not resent this matter 
because it was an injury done to Monsieur Mesnager's 



134 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 

footmen ; ' for (says he) what are Monsieur Mesnager's 
footmen to him ? but because it was done to his 
subjects. Now, (says he,) let me tell you, it would 
look very odd for a subject of France to have a bloody 
nose, and his sovereign not to take notice of it. He 
is obliged in honour to defend his people against 
hostilities ; and if the Dutch will be so insolent to a 
crowned head, as, in anywise, to cuff or kick those who 
are under his protection, I think he is in the right to 
call them to an account for it.' 

This distinction set the controversy upon a new 
foot, and seemed to be very well approved by most 
that heard it, till a Httle warm fellow, who declared 
himself a friend to the house of Austria, fell most 
unmercifully upon his Gallic Majesty, as encouraging 
his subjects to make mouths at their betters, and 
afterwards screening them from the punishment that 
was due to their insolence. To which he added, that 
the French nation was so addicted to grimace, that if 
there was not a stop put to it at the general congress, 
there would be no walking the streets for them in 
a time of peace, especially if they continued masters 
of the West Indies. The little man proceeded with 
a great deal of warmth, declaring, that if the alHes 
were of his mind, he would oblige the French king to 
burn his galleys, and tolerate the Protestant religion 
in his dominions, before he would sheath his sword. 
He concluded with calling Monsieur Mesnager an 
insignificant prig. 

The dispute was now growing very warm, and one 
does not know where it would have ended, had not a 
young man of about one and twenty, who seems to 
have been brought up with an eye to the law, taken 
the debate into his hand, and given it as his opinion, 
that neither Count Rechteren nor Monsieur Mesnager 



THE VISION OF PUBLIC CREDIT. 1 35 

had behaved themselves right in this affair. ' Count 
Rechteren (says he) should have made affidavit that 
his servants had been affronted, and then Monsieur 
Mesnager would have done him justice, by taking 
away their liveries from them, or some other way that 
he might have thought the most proper ; for let me 
tell you, if a man makes a mouth at me, I am not to 
knock the teeth out of it for his pains. Then again, 
as for Monsieur Mesnager, upon his servant's being 
beaten, why ! he might have had his action of assault 
and battery. But as the case now stands, if you will 
have my opinion, I think they ought to bring it to 
referees.' 

I heard a great deal more of this conference, but I 
must confess with little edification ; for all I could 
learn at last from these honest gentlemen was, that 
the matter in debate was of too high a nature for such 
heads as theirs, or mine, to comprehend. 



THE VISION OF PUBLIC CREDIT. 

In one of my late rambles, or rather speculations, 
I looked into the great hall where the Bank is kept, 
and was not a little pleased to see the directors, 
secretaries, and clerks, with all the other members of 
that wealthy corporation, ranged in their several 
stations, according to the parts they act in that just 
and regular ceconomy. This revived in my memory 
the many discourses which I had both read and heard 
concerning the decay of public credit, with the 
methods of restoring it, and which, in my opinion, 
have always been defective, because they have always 



136 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 

been made with an eye to separate interests and party 
principles. 

The thoughts of the day gave my mind employment 
for the whole night, so that I fell insensibly into a 
kind of methodical dream, which disposed all my 
contemplations into a vision or allegory, or what else 
the reader shall please to call it. 

Methoughts I returned to the great hall, where I 
had been the morning before, but, to my surprise, 
instead of the company that I left there, I saw towards 
the upper end of the hall a beautiful virgin, seated on 
a throne of gold. Her name (as they told me) was 
Pubhc Credit. The walls, instead of being adorned 
with pictures and maps, were hung with many Acts of 
Parliament written in golden letters. At the upper 
end of the hall was the Magna Charta, with the Act 
of Uniformity on the right hand, and the Act of 
Toleration on the left. At the lower end of the hall 
was the Act of Settlement, which was placed full in 
the eye of the virgin that sat upon the throne. Both 
the sides of the hall were covered with such Acts of 
Parliament as had been made for the estabhshment 
of public funds. The lady seemed to set an unspeak- 
able value upon these several pieces of furniture, 
insomuch that she often refreshed her eye with them, 
and often smiled with a secret pleasure as she looked 
upon them ; but, at the same time, showed a very 
particular uneasiness, if she saw anything approaching 
that might hurt them. She appeared, indeed, infi- 
nitely timorous in all her behaviour ; and, whether it 
was from the delicacy of her constitution, or that she 
was troubled with vapours, as I was afterwards told 
by one who I found was none of her well-wishers, she 
changed colour and startled at everything she heard. 
She was likewise (as I afterwards found) a greater 



THE VISION OF PUBLIC CREDIT. 13/ 

valetudinarian than any I had ever met with, even in 
her own sex, and subject to such momentary con- 
sumptions, that, in the twinkling of an eye, she would 
fall away from the most florid complexion, and the 
most healthful state of body, and wither into a 
skeleton. Her recoveries were often as sudden as her 
decays, insomuch that she would revive in a moment 
out of a wasting distemper, into a habit of the highest 
health and vigour. 

I had very soon an opportunity of observing these 
quick turns and changes in her constitution. There 
sat at her feet a couple of secretaries, who received 
every hour letters from all parts of the world, which 
the one or the other of them was perpetually reading 
to her ; and, according to the news she heard, to 
which she was exceedingly attentive, she changed 
colour, and discovered many symptoms of health or 
sickness. 

Behind the throne was a prodigious heap of bags of 
money, which were piled upon one another so high, 
that they touched the ceiling. The floor, on her right 
hand and on her left, was covered with vast sums of 
gold that rose up in pyramids on either side of her : 
but this I did not so much wonder at, when I heard, 
upon inquiry, that she had the same virtue in her 
touch, which the poets tell us a Lydian king was for- 
merly possessed of; and that she could convert what- 
ever she pleased into that precious metal. 

After a little dizziness, and confused hurry of 
thought, which a man often meets with in a dream, 
methoughts the hall was alarmed, the doors flew open, 
and there entered half a dozen of the most hideous 
phantoms that I had ever seen (even in a dream) 
before that time. They came in two by two, though 
matched in the most dissociable manner, and mingled 



138 HUMOURS OF THE TOWN. 

together in a kind of dance. It would be tedious to 
describe their habits and persons, for which reason I 
shall only inform my reader, that the first couple were 
Tyranny and Anarchy ; the second were Bigotry and 
Atheism; the third, the genius of a commonwealth 
and a young man of about twenty-two years of age, 
whose name I could not learn. He had a sword in 
his right hand, which in the dance he often brandished 
at the Act of Settlement ; and a citizen, who stood by 
me, whispered in my ear, that he saw a spunge in his 
left hand. The dance of so many jarring natures put 
me in mind of the sun, moon, and earth, in the Re- 
hearsal, that danced together for no other end but to 
eclipse one another. 

The reader will easily suppose, by what has been 
before said, that the lady on the throne would have 
been almost frighted to distraction, had she seen but 
any one of these spectres ; what then must have been 
her condition when she saw them all in a body ? She 
fainted and died away at the sight. 

Et neque jam color est misto candore rubori; 

Nee vigor, et vires, et quoe modo visa placebant; 

Nee corpus remanet — Ov. Met. lib. iii. 

There was a great change in the hill of money bags 
and the heaps of money ; the former shrinking, and 
falling into so many empty bags, that I now found not 
above a tenth part of them had been filled with money. 
The rest that took up the same space, and made the 
same figure as the bags that were really filled with 
money, had been blown up with air, and called into 
my memory the bags full of wind, which Homer tells 
us his hero received as a present from y^olus. The 
great heaps of gold, on either side the throne, now 
appeared to be only heaps of paper, or little piles of 



THE VISION OF PUBLIC CREDIT. 1 39 

notched sticks, bound up together in bundles, like 
Bath faggots. 

Whilst I was lamenting this sudden desolation that 
had been made before me, the whole scene vanished : 
in the room of the frightful spectres, there now entered 
a second dance of apparitions very agreeably matched 
together, and made up of very amiable phantoms. 
The first pair was Liberty with Monarchy at her right 
hand ; the second was Moderation leading in Re- 
ligion ; and the third, a person whom I had never 
seen, with the genius of Great Britain. At the first 
entrance the lady revived ; the bags swelled to their 
former bulk ; the pile of faggots, and heaps of paper, 
changed into pyramids of guineas : and, for my own 
part, I was so transported with joy, that I awaked ; 
though, I must confess, I would fain have fallen asleep 
again to have closed my vision, if I could have 
done it. 



TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 



THE VISION OF MIRZAH. 

When I was at Grand Cairo I picked up several 
oriental manuscripts, which I have still by me. Among 
others I met with one entitled, The Visions of Mirzah, 
which I have read over with great pleasure. I intend 
to give it to the public when I have no other entertain- 
ment for them ; and shall begin with the first vision, 
which I have translated word for word as follows : 

' On the fifth day of the moon, which according to 
the custom of my forefathers I always kept holy, after 
having washed myself, and offered up my morning 
devotions, I ascended the high hills of Bagdat, in 
order to pass the rest of the day in meditation and 
prayer. As I was here airing myself on the tops of 
the mountains, I fell into a profound contemplation on 
the vanity of human life ; and passing from one 
thought to another, surely, said I, man is but a shadow 
and Hfe a dream. Whilst I was thus musing, I cast 
my eyes towards the summit of a rock that was not 
far from me, where I discovered one in the habit of 
a shepherd, with a musical instrument in his hand. 
As I looked upon him he applied it to his lips, and 
began to play upon it. The sound of it was exceeding 
sweet, and wrought into a variety of tunes that were 
inexpressibly melodious, and altogether different from 
anything I had ever heard. They put me in mind of 
140 



THE VISION OF MIRZAH. I4I 

those heavenly airs that are played to the departed 
souls of good men upon their first arrival in paradise, 
to wear out the impressions of their last agonies, and 
quahfy them for the pleasures of that happy place. 
My heart melted away in secret raptures. 

I had been often told that the rock before me was 
the haunt of a genius ; and that several had been 
entertained with music who had passed by it, but 
never heard that the musician had before made him- 
self visible. When he had raised my thoughts, by 
those transporting airs which he played, to taste the 
pleasures of his conversation, as I looked upon him 
like one astonished, he beckoned to me, and by the 
waving of his hand directed me to approach the place 
where he sat. I drew near with that reverence which 
is due to a superior nature ; and as my heart was 
entirely subdued by the captivating strains I had 
heard, I fell down at his feet and wept. The genius 
smiled upon me with a look of compassion and 
affability that familiarized him to my imagination, and 
at once dispelled all the fears and apprehensions with 
which I approached him. He lifted me from the 
ground, and taking me by the hand, Mirzah, said he, 
I have heard thee in thy soliloquies, follow me. 

He then led me to the highest pinnacle of the rock, 
and placed me on the top of it. Cast thy eyes east- 
ward, said he, and tell me what thou seest. I see, 
said I, a huge valley and a prodigious tide of water 
rolhng through it. The valley that thou seest, said 
he, is the vale of misery, and the tide of water that 
thou seest is part of the great tide of eternity. What 
is the reason, said I, that the tide I see rises out of 
a thick mist at one end, and again loses itself in a 
thick mist at the other ? What thou seest, says he, is 
that portion of eternity which is called time, measured 



142 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 

out by the sun, and reaching from the beginning of 
the world to its consummation. Examine now, said 
he, this sea that is thus bounded with darkness at 
both ends, and tell me what thou discoverest in it. 
I see a bridge, said I, standing in the midst of the 
tide. The bridge thou seest, said he, is human life ; 
consider it attentively. Upon a more leisurely survey 
of it, I found that it consisted of threescore and ten 
entire arches, with several broken arches, which added 
to those that were entire, made up the number about 
an hundred. As I was counting the arches the genius 
told me that this bridge consisted at first of a thousand 
arches ; but that a great flood swept away the rest, 
and left the bridge in the ruinous condition I now 
beheld it. But tell me, further, said he, what thou 
discoverest on it. I see multitudes of people passing 
over it, said I, and a black cloud hanging on each end 
of it. As I looked more attentively, I saw several of 
the passengers dropping through the bridge, into the 
great tide that flowed underneath it ; and upon further 
examination, perceived there were innumerable trap- 
doors that lay concealed in the bridge, which the 
passengers no sooner trod upon, but they fell through 
them into the tide and immediately disappeared. 
These hidden pit-falls were set very thick at the 
entrance of the bridge, so that throngs of people no 
sooner broke through the cloud, but many of them fell 
into them. They grew thinner towards the middle, 
but multipHed and lay closer together towards the end 
of the arches that were entire. 

There were indeed some persons, but their number 
was very small, that continued a kind of hobbling 
march on the broken arches, but fell through one after 
another, being quite tired and spent with so long a 
walk. 



THE VISION OF MIRZAH. 143 

I passed some time in the contemplation of this 
wonderful structure, and the great variety of objects 
which it presented. My heart was filled with a deep 
melancholy to see several dropping unexpectedly in 
the midst of mirth and joHity, and catching at every- 
thing that stood by them to save themselves. Some 
were looking up towards the heavens in a thoughtful 
posture, and in the midst of a speculation stumbled 
and fell out of sight. Multitudes were very busy in 
the pursuit of baubles that glittered in their eyes and 
danced before them, but often when they thought 
themselves within the reach of them, their footing 
failed and down they sunk. In this confusion of 
objects, I observed some with scimetars in their hands, 
and others with urinals, who ran to and fro upon the 
bridge, thrusting several persons upon trap-doors 
which did not seem to He in their way, and which 
they might have escaped, had they not been thus 
forced upon them. 

The genius seeing me indulge myself in this 
melancholy prospect, told me I had dwelt long enough 
upon it : take thine eyes off the bridge, said he, and 
tell me if thou seest anything thou dost not com- 
prehend. Upon looking up, what mean, said I, those 
great flights of birds that are perpetually hovering about 
the bridge, and settling upon it from time to time? I 
see vultures, harpies, ravens, cormorants, and among 
many other feathered creatures, several little winged 
boys, that perch in great numbers upon the middle 
arches. These, said the genius, are envy, avarice, 
superstition, despair, love, with the like cares and 
passions, that infest human life. 

I here fetched a deep sigh ; alas, said I, man was 
made in vain ! How is he given away to misery and 
mortality ! tortured in life, and swallowed up in death ! 



144 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 

The genius, being mov^ed with compassion towards 
me, bid me quit so uncoipfortable a prospect. Look 
no more, said he, on man in the first stage of his 
existence, in his setting out for eternity ; but cast thine 
eye on that thick mist into which the tide bears the 
several generations of mortals that fall into it. I 
directed my sight as I was ordered, and (whether or ; 
no the good genius strengthened it with any super- ; 
natural force, or dissipated part of the mist that was 
before too thick for the eye to penetrate) I saw the 
valley opening at the farther end, and spreading forth 
into an immense ocean, that had a huge rock of 
adamant running through the midst of it, and dividing 
it into two equal parts. The clouds still rested on one 
half of it, insomuch that I could discover nothing in 
it : but the other appeared to me a vast ocean planted 
with innumerable islands, that were covered with fruits 
and flowers, and interwoven with a thousand little 
shining seas that ran among them. I could see 
persons dressed in glorious habits with garlands upon 
their heads, passing among the trees, lying down by 
the sides of the fountains, or resting on beds of 
flowers ; and could hear a confused harmony of sing- 
ing birds, falhng waters, human voices, and musical 
instruments. Gladness grew in me upon the discovery 
of so delightful a scene. I wished for the wings of an 
eagle, that I might fly away to those happy seats ; but 
the genius told me there was no passage to them, 
except through the gates of death that I saw opening 
every moment upon the bridge. The islands, said he, 
that He so fresh and green before thee, and with which 
the whole face of the ocean appears spotted as far as 
thou canst see, are more in number than the sands on 
the sea-shore ; there are myriads of islands behind 
those which thou here discoverest, reaching farther 



THE TALE OF MARRATON. I45 

than thine eye, or even thine imagination, can extend 
itself. These are the mansions of good men after 
death, who, according to the degree and kinds of 
virtue in which they excelled, are distributed among 
these several islands, which abound with pleasures of 
different kinds and degrees, suitable to the rehshes 
and perfections of those who are settled in them : 
every island is a paradise, accommodated to its respec- 
tive inhabitants. Are not these, O Mirzah, habitations 
worth contending for? Does life appear miserable, 
that gives thee opportunities of earning such a reward ? 
Is death to be feared, that will convey thee to so 
happy an existence? Think not man was made in 
vain, who has such an eternity reserved for him. I 
gazed with inexpressible pleasure on these happy 
islands. At length, said I, show me now, I beseech 
thee, the secrets that lie hid under those dark clouds 
which cover the ocean on the other side of the rock 
of adamant. The genius making me no answer, I 
turned about to address myself to him a second time, 
but I found that he had left me. I then turned again 
to the vision which I had been so long contemplating, 
but, instead of the rolling tide, the arched bridge, and 
the happy islands, I saw nothing but the long hollow 
valley of Bagdat, with oxen, sheep, and camels grazing 
upon the sides of it.' 



THE TALE OF MARRATON. 

The Americans believe that all creatures have souls, 
not only men and women, but brutes, vegetables, nay, 
even the most inanimate things, as stocks and stones. 



146 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 

They believe the same of all the works of art, as of 
knives, boats, looking-glasses : and that as any of 
these things perish, their souls go into another world, 
which is habited by the ghosts of men and women. 
For this reason they always place by the corpse of 
their dead friend a bow and arrows, that he may 
make use of the souls of them in the other world, as 
he did of their wooden bodies in this. How absurd 
soever such an opinion as this may appear, our 
European philosophers have maintained several no- 
tions altogether as improbable. Some of Plato's fol- 
lowers in particular, when they talk of the world of 
ideas, entertain us with substances and beings no less 
extravagant and chimerical. Many Aristotehans have 
likewise spoken as unintelligibly of their substantial 
forms. I shall only instance Albertus Magnus, who 
in his dissertation upon the loadstone, observing that 
fire will destroy its magnetic virtues, tells us that he 
took particular notice of one as it lay glowing amidst 
an heap of burning coals, and that he perceived a 
certain blue vapour to arise from it, which he beheved 
might be the substantial form, that is, in our West 
Indian phrase, the soul of the loadstone. 

There is a tradition among the Americans, that one 
of their countrymen descended in a vision to the great 
repository of souls, or, as we call it here, to the other 
world; and that upon his return he gave his friends 
a distinct account of everything he saw among those 
regions of the dead. A friend of mine, whom I have 
formerly mentioned, prevailed upon one of the inter- 
preters of the Indian kings, to inquire of them, if 
possible, what tradition they have among them of 
this matter ; which, as well as he could learn by those 
many questions which he asked them at several times, 
was in substance as follows. 



THE TALE OF MARRATON. I47 

The visionary, whose name was Marraton, after 
having travelled for a long space under an hollow 
mountain, arrived at length on the confines of this 
world of spirits ; but could not enter it by reason of a 
thick forest made up of bushes, brambles, and pointed 
thorns, so perplexed and interwoven with one another, 
that it was impossible to find a passage through it. 
Whilst he was looking about for some track or path- 
way that might be worn in any part of it, he saw an 
huge lion couched under the side of it, who kept his 
eye upon him in the same posture as when he watches 
for his prey. The Indian immediately started back, 
whilst the lion rose with a spring, and leaped towards 
him. Being wholly destitute of all other weapons, he 
stooped down to take up an huge stone in his hand : 
but to his infinite surprise grasped nothing, and found 
the supposed stone to be only the apparition of one. 
If he was disappointed on this side, he was as much 
pleased on the other, when he found the lion, which 
had seized on his left shoulder, had no power to hurt 
him, and was only the ghost of that ravenous creature 
which it appeared to be. He no sooner got rid of his 
impotent enemy, but he marched up to the wood, and 
after having surveyed it for some time, endeavoured 
to press into one part of it that was a little thinner 
than the rest; when again, to his great surprise, he 
found the bushes made no resistance, but that he 
walked through briers and brambles with the same 
ease as through the open air ; and, in short, that the 
whole wood was nothing else but a wood of shades. 
He immediately concluded, that this huge thicket of 
thorns and brakes was designed as a kind of fence or 
quick-set hedge to the ghosts it enclosed ; and that 
probably their soft substances might be torn by these 
subtle points and prickles, which were too weak to 



148 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 

make any impressions in flesh and blood. With this 
thought he resolved to travel through this intricate 
wood; when by degrees he felt a gale of perfumes 
breathing upon him, that grew stronger and sweeter 
in proportion as he advanced. He had not proceeded 
much farther when he observed the thorns and briers 
to end, and give place to a thousand beautiful green 
trees covered with blossoms of the finest scents and 
colours, that formed a wilderness of sweets, and were 
a kind of Uning to those ragged scenes which he had 
before passed through. As he was coming out of this 
delightful part of the wood, and entering upon the 
plains it enclosed, he saw several horsemen rushing 
by him, and a little while after heard the cry of a 
pack of dogs. He had not listened long before he 
saw the apparition of a milk-white steed, with a young 
man on the back of it, advancing upon full stretch 
after the souls of about an hundred beagles that were 
hunting down the ghost of an hare, which ran away 
before them with an unspeakable swiftness. As the 
man on the milk-white steed came by him, he looked 
upon him very attentively, and found him to be the 
young prince Nicharagua, who died about half a year 
before, and by reason of his great virtues was at that 
time lamented over all the western parts of America. 

He had no sooner got out of the wood, but he was 
entertained with such a landskip of flowery plains, 
green meadows, rmming streams, sunny hills, and 
shady vales, as were not to be represented by his own 
expressions, nor, as he said, by the conceptions of 
others. This happy region was peopled with innumer- 
able swarms of spirits, who applied themselves to 
exercises and diversions according as their fancies led 
them. Some of them were tossing the figure of a 
coit j others were pitching the shadow of a bar ; 



THE TALE OF MARRATON. I49 

Others were breaking the apparition of a horse ; and 
multitudes employing themselves upon ingenious handi- 
crafts with the souls of departed utensils ; for that is 
the name which in the Indian language they give 
their tools when they are burnt or broken. As he 
travelled through this delightful scene, he was very 
often tempted to pluck the flowers that rose every- 
where about him in the greatest variety and profusion, 
having never seen several of them in his own country ; 
but he quickly found, that though they were objects of 
his sight, they were not hable to his touch. He at 
length came to the side of a great river, and being a 
good fisherman himself, stood upon the banks of it 
some time to look upon an angler that had taken a 
great many shapes of fishes, which lay flouncing up 
and down by him. 

I should have told my reader, that this Indian had 
been formerly married to one of the greatest beauties 
of his country, by whom he had several children. 
This couple were so famous for their love and con- 
stancy to one another, that the Indians to this day, 
when they give a married man joy of his wife, wish 
that they may live together like Marraton and Yara- 
tilda. Marraton had not stood long by the fisherman 
when he saw the shadow of his beloved Yaratilda, who 
had for some time fixed her eye upon him, before he 
discovered her. Her arms were stretched out towards 
him, floods of tears ran down her eyes ; her looks, her 
hands, her voice called him over to her ; and at the 
same time seemed to tell him that the river was 
unpassable. Who can describe the passion made up 
of joy, sorrow, love, desire, astonishment, that rose 
in the Indian upon the sight of his dear Yaratilda ? he 
could express it by nothing but his tears, which ran 
like a river down his cheeks as he looked upon her. 



150 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 

He had not stood in this posture long, before he 
plunged into the stream that lay before him ; and find- 
ing it to be nothing but the phantom of a river, stalked 
on the bottom of it till he arose on the other side. 
At his approach Yaratilda flew into his arms, whilst 
Marraton wished himself disencumbered of that body 
which kept her from his embraces. After many 
questions and endearments on both sides, she con- 
ducted him to a bower which she had dressed with 
her own hands with all the ornaments that could be 
met with in those blooming regions. She had made 
it gay beyond imagination, and was every day adding 
something new to it. x\s Marraton stood astonished 
at the unspeakable beauty of her habitation, and 
ravished with the fragrancy that came from every part 
of it, Yaratilda told him that she was preparing this 
bower for his reception, as well knowing that his piety 
to his God, and his faithful dealing towards men, 
would certainly bring him to that happy place, when- 
ever his life should be at an end. She then brought 
two of her children to him, who died some years 
before, and resided with her in the same delightful 
bower; advising him to breed up those others which 
were still with him in such a manner, that they might 
hereafter all of them meet together in this happy place. 
This tradition tells us further, that he had after- 
wards a sight of those dismal habitations which are the 
portion of ill men after death ; and mentions several 
molten seas of gold, in which were plunged the souls 
of barbarous Europeans, who put to the sword so 
many thousands of poor Indians for the sake of that 
precious metal : but having already touched upon the 
chief points of this tradition, and exceeded the meas- 
ure of my paper, I shall not give any further account 
of it. 



THE GOLDEN SCALES. I5I 



THE GOLDEN SCALES. 

I WAS lately entertaining myself with comparing 
Homer's balance, in which Jupiter is represented as 
weighing the fates of Hector and Achilles, with a 
passage of Virgil, wherein that deity is introduced as 
weighing the fates of Turnus and yEneas. I then con- 
sidered how the same way of thinking prevailed in 
the eastern parts of the world, as in those noble pas- 
sages of Scripture, where we are told, that the great 
king of Babylon, the day before his death, had been 
weighed in the balance, and been found wanting. In 
other places of the holy writings, the Almighty is de- 
scribed as weighing the mountains in scales, making 
the weight for the winds, knowing the balancings of 
the clouds ; and, in others, as weighing the actions of 
men, and laying their calamities together in a balance. 
Milton, as I have observed in a former paper, had an 
eye to several of these foregoing instances, in that 
beautiful description wherein he represents the arch- 
angel and the evil spirit as addressing themselves for 
the combat, but parted by the balance which appeared 
in the heavens, and weighed the consequences of such 
a battle. 

These several amusing thoughts having taken pos- 
session of my mind some time before I went to sleep, 
and mingling themselves with my ordinary ideas, 
raised in my imagination a very odd kind of vision. 
I was, methought, replaced in my study, and seated 
in my elbow-chair, where I had indulged the fore- 
going speculations, with my lamp burning by me, as 
usual. Whilst I was here meditating on several sub- 
jects of morality, and considering the nature of many 



152 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 

virtues and vices, as materials for those discourses 
with which I daily entertain the public ; I saw, me- 
thought, a pair of golden scales hanging by a chain in 
the same metal over the table that stood before me ; 
when, on a sudden, there were great heaps of weights 
thrown down on each side of them. I found upon 
examining these weights, they showed the value of 
everything that is in esteem among men. I made an 
essay of them, by putting the weight of wisdom in one 
scale, and that of riches in another, upon which the 
latter, to show its comparative lightness, immediately 
* flew up and kick'd the beam.' 

But, before I proceed, I must inform my reader, 
that these weights did not exert their natural gravity, 
till they were laid in the golden balance, insomuch 
that I could not guess which was light or heavy, whilst 
I held them in my hand. This I found by several 
instances, for upon my laying a weight in one of the 
scales, which was inscribed by the word Eternity; 
though I threw in that of time, prosperity, affliction, 
wealth, poverty, interest, success, with many other 
weights, which in my hand seemed very ponderous, 
they were not able to stir the opposite balance, nor 
could they have prevailed, though assisted with the 
weight of the sun, the stars, and the earth. 

Upon emptying the scales, I laid several tides and 
honours, with pomps, triumphs, and many weights of 
the hke nature, in one of them, and seeing a little 
glittering weight lie by me, I threw it accidentally into 
the other scale, when, to my great surprise, it proved 
so exact a counterpoise, that it kept the balance in an 
equihbrium. This little glittering weight was inscribed 
upon the edges of it with the word Vanity. I found 
there were several other weights which were equally 
heavy, and exact counterpoises to one another ; a few 



THE GOLDEN SCALES. 153 

of them I tried, as avarice and poverty, riches and 
content, with some others. 

There were likewise several weights that were of the 
same figure, and seemed to correspond with each 
other, but were entirely different when thrown into the 
scales, as religion and hypocrisy, pedantry and learn- 
ing, wit and vivacity, superstition and devotion, gravity 
and wisdom, with many others. 

I observed one particular weight lettered on both 
sides, and upon applying myself to the reading of it, I 
found on one side written, ' In the dialect of men,' 
and underneath it, ' calamities ' ; on the other side 
was written, ' In the language of the gods,' and under- 
neath, ' BLESSINGS.' I found the intrinsic value of 
this weight to be much greater than I imagined, for it 
overpowered health, wealth, good-fortune, and many 
other weights, which were much more ponderous in 
my hand than the other. 

There is a saying among the Scotch, that ' an ounce 
of mother is worth a pound of clergy ; ' I was sensible 
of the truth of this saying, when I saw the difference 
between the weight of natural parts and that of learn- 
ing. The observation which I made upon these two 
weights opened to me a new field of discoveries, for 
notwithstanding the weight of natural parts was much 
heavier than that of learning, I observed that it 
weighed an hundred times heavier than it did before, 
when I put learning into the same scale with it. I 
made the same observation upon faith and morality; 
for notwithstanding the latter outweighed the former 
separately, it received a thousand times more addi- 
tional weight from its conjunction with the former, 
than what it had by itself. This odd phenomenon 
showed itself in other particulars, as in wit and judg- 
ment, philosophy and religion, justice and humanity, 



154 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 

zeal and charity, depth of sense and perspicuity of 
style, with innumerable other particulars, too long to 
be mentioned in this paper. 

As a dream seldom fails of dashing seriousness with 
impertinence, mirth with gravity, methought I made 
several other experiments of a more ludicrous nature, 
by one of which I found that an English octavo was 
very often heavier than a French folio ; and by another, 
that an old Greek or Latin author weighed down a 
whole library of moderns. Seeing one of my Specta- 
tors lying by me, I laid it into one of the scales, and 
flung a twopenny piece in the other. The reader will 
not inquire into the event, if he remembers the first 
trial which I have recorded in this paper. I after- 
wards threw both the sexes into the balance ; but as 
it is not for my interest to disobhge either of them, 
I shall desire to be excused from teUing the result of 
this experiment. Having an opportunity of this na- 
ture in my hands, I could not forbear throwing into 
one scale the principles of a Tory, and in the other 
those of a Whig ; but as I have all along declared this 
to be a neutral paper, I shall likewise desire to be 
silent under this head also, though upon examining 
one of the weights, I saw the word TEKEL engraven 
on it in capital letters. 

I made many other experiments, and though I have 
not room for them all in this day's speculation, I may 
perhaps reserve them for another. I shall only add, 
that upon my awaking I was sorry to find my golden 
scales vanished, but resolved for the future to learn 
this lesson from them, not to despise or value any 
things for their appearances, but to regulate my 
esteem and passions towards them according to their 
real and intrinsic value. 



HILPA AND SHALUM. I 55 



HILPA AND SHALUM. 

HiLPA was one of the 150 daughters of Zilpah, of 
the race of Cohu, by whom some of the learned think 
is meant Cain. She was exceedingly beautiful, and 
when she was but a girl of threescore and ten years of 
age, received the addresses of several who made love 
to her. Among these were two brothers, Harpath and 
Shalum. Harpath, being the first-born, was master of 
that fruitful region which Hes at the foot of Mount 
Tirzah, in the southern parts of China. Shalum 
(which is to say the planter, in the Chinese language) 
possessed all the neighbouring hills, and that great 
range of mountains which goes under the name of 
Tirzah. Harpath was of a haughty, contemptuous 
spirit ; Shalum was of a gentle disposition, beloved 
both by God and man. 

It is said that, among the antediluvian women, the 
daughters of Cohu had their minds wholly set upon 
riches ; for which reason, the beautiful Hilpa pre- 
ferred Harpath to Shalum, because of his numerous 
flocks and herds, that covered all the low country 
which runs along the foot of Mount Tirzah, and is 
watered by several fountains and streams breaking out 
of the sides of that mountain. 

Harpath made so quick a despatch of his courtship, 
that he married Hilpa in the hundredth year of her 
age, and being of an insolent temper, laughed to scorn 
his brother Shalum for having pretended to the beau- 
tiful Hilpa, when he was master of nothing but a long 
chain of rocks and mountains. This so much pro- 
voked Shalum, that he is said to have cursed his 
brother in the bitterness of his heart, and to have 



156 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 

prayed that one of his mountains might fall upon his 
head, if ever he came within the shadow of it. 

From this time forward Harpath would never ven- 
ture out of the valleys, but came to an untimely end in 
the 250th year of his age, being drowned in a river as 
he attempted to cross it. This river is called, to this 
day, from his name who perished in it, the river Har- 
path, and what is very remarkable, issues out of one 
of those mountains which Shalum wished might fall 
upon his brother, when he cursed him in the bitter- 
ness of his heart. 

Hilpa was in the i6oth year of her age at the death 
of her husband, having brought him but fifty children, 
before he was snatched away, as has been already re- 
lated. Many of the antediluvians made love to the 
young widow, though no one was thought so likely to 
succeed in her affections as her first lover Shalum, who 
renewed his court to her about ten years after the 
death of Harpath ; for it was not thought decent in 
those days that a widow should be seen by a man 
within ten years after the decease of her husband. 

Shalum, falling into a deep melancholy, and re- 
solving to take away that objection which had been 
raised against him when he made his first addresses to 
Hilpa, began, immediately after her marriage with 
Harpath, to plant all that mountainous region which 
fell to his lot in the division of this country. He 
knew how to adapt every plant to its proper soil, and 
is thought to have inherited many traditional secrets 
of that art from the first man. This employment 
turned at length to his profit as well as to his amuse- 
ment : his mountains were in a few years shaded with 
young trees, that gradually shot up into groves, woods, 
and forests, intermixed with walks, and lawns, and 
gardens; insomuch that the whole region, from a 



HILPA AND SIT ALUM. 157 

naked and desolate prospect, began now to look like 
a second Paradise. The pleasantness of the place, 
and the agreeable disposition of Shalum, who was 
reckoned one of the mildest and wisest of all who 
lived before the flood, drew into it multitudes of 
people who were perpetually employed in the sinking 
of wells, the digging of trenches, and the hollowing of 
trees, for the better distribution of water through every 
part of this spacious plantation. 

The habitations of Shalum looked every year more 
beautiful in the eyes of Hilpa, who, after the space of 
70 autumns, was wonderfully pleased with the distant 
prospect of Shalum's hills ; which were then covered 
with innumerable tufts of trees and gloomy scenes, that 
gave a magnificence to the place, and converted it 
into one of the finest landscapes the eye of man could 
behold. 

The Chinese record a letter which Shalum is said to 
have written to Hilpa, in the eleventh year of her 
widowhood. I shall here translate it, without depart- 
ing from that noble simplicity of sentiments, and 
plainness of manners, which appears in the original. 

Shalum was at this time 180 years old, and Hilpa 
170. 

Shalum, master of Mount Tirzah, to Hilpa, 
mistress of the Valleys. 

In the 'jZZth year of the Creation. 

What have I not suffered, O thou daughter of 
Zilpah, since thou gavest thyself away in marriage to 
my rival! I grew weary of the light of the sun, and 
have been ever since covering myself with woods and 
forests. These threescore and ten years have I be- 
wailed the loss of thee on the tops of Mount Tirzah, 
and soothed my melancholy among a thousand gloomy 



158 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 

shades of my own raising. My dwellings are at pres- 
ent as the garden of God ; every part of them is filled 
with fruits, and flowers, and fountains. The whole 
mountain is perfumed for thy reception. Come up 
into it, O my beloved, and let us people this spot of 
the new world with a beautiful race of mortals ; let us 
multiply exceedingly among these delightful shades, 
and fill every quarter of them with sons and daughters. 
Remember, O thou daughter of Zilpah, that the age of 
men is but a thousand years ; that beauty is the ad- 
miration but of a few centuries. It flourishes as a 
mountain oak, or as a cedar on the top of Tirzah, 
which in three or four hundred years will fade away, 
and never be thought of by posterity, unless a young 
wood springs from its roots. Think well on this, and 
remember thy neighbour in the mountains. 

The letter had so good an effect upon Hilpa, that 
she answered it in less than a twelve-month after the 
following manner. 

Hilpa, mistress of the Valleys, to Shalum, master 
of Mount Tirzah. 

I7i the ']%<^th year of the Creation. 

What have I to do with thee, O Shalum .? Thou 
praisest Hilpa's beauty, but art thou not secretly 
enamoured with the verdure of her meadows ? Art 
thou not more aff"ected with the prospect of her gieen 
valley, than thou wouldest be with the sight of her 
person? The lowings of my herds, and the bleatings 
of my flocks, make a pleasant echo in thy mountains, 
and sound sweetly in thy ears. What though I am 
delighted with the wavings of thy forests, and those 
breezes of perfumes which flow from the top of Tirzah : 
are these like the riches of the valley? 

I know thee, O Shalum ; thou art more wise and 
happy than any of the sons of men. Thy dwellings 
are among the cedars ; thou searchest out the diversity 



HILPA AND SHALUM. 159 

of soils, thou understandest the influence of the stars, 
and markest the change of seasons. Can a woman 
appear lovely in the eyes of such a one ? Disquiet me 
not, O Shalum ; let me alone, that I may enjoy those 
goodly possessions which are fallen to my lot. Win 
me not by thy enticing words. May thy trees increase 
and multiply; mayest thou add wood to wood, and 
shade to shade; but tempt not Hilpa to destroy thy 
solitude, and make thy retirement populous. 

The Chinese say, that a little time afterwards she 
accepted of a treat, in one of the neighbouring hills, 
to which Shalum had invited her. This treat lasted 
for two years, and is said to have cost Shalum five 
hundred antelopes, two thousand ostriches, and a 
thousand tun of milk ; but what most of all recom- 
mended it, was that variety of delicious fruits and pot- 
herbs, in which no person then living could any way 
equal Shalum. 

He treated her in the bower which he had planted 
amidst the wood of nightingales. The wood was 
made up of such fruit trees and plants as are most 
agreeable to the several kinds of singing birds ; so 
that it had drawn into it all the music of the country, 
and was filled, from one end of the year to the other, 
with the most agreeable concert in season. 

He showed her every day some beautiful and sur- 
prising scene in this new region of wood-lands ; and 
as, by this means, he had all the opportunities he 
could wish for of opening his mind to her, he suc- 
ceeded so well, that upon her departure, she made 
him a kind of promise, and gave him her word to 
return him a positive answer in less than fifty years. 

She had not been long among her own people in 
the valleys, when she received new overtures, and at 
the same time a most splendid visit, from Mishpach, 



l60 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 

who was a mighty man of old, and had bnilt a great 
city, which he called after his own name. Every 
house was made for at least a thousand years, nay, 
there were some that were leased out for three lives ; 
so that the quantity of stone and timber consumed in 
this building is scarce to be imagined by those who 
live in the present age of the world. This great man 
entertained her with the voice of musical instruments, 
which had been lately invented, and danced before 
her to the sound of the timbrel. He also presented 
her with several domestic utensils wrought in brass 
and iron, which had been newly found out for the 
convenience of life. In the mean time, Shalum grew 
very uneasy with himself, and was sorely displeased at 
Hilpa, for the reception which she had given to Mish- 
pach, insomuch that he never wrote to her, or spoke 
of her, during a whole revolution of Saturn ; but, 
finding that this intercourse went no further than a 
visit, he again renewed his addresses to her, who, 
during his long silence, is said very often to have cast 
a wishing eye upon Mount Tirzah. 

Her mind continued wavering about twenty years 
longer, between Shalum and Mishpach ; for though 
her inclinations favoured the former, her interest 
pleaded very powerfully for the other. While her 
heart was in this unsettled condition, the following 
accident happened, which determined her choice. A 
high tower of wood, that stood in the city of Mish- 
pach, having caught fire by a flash of lightning, in a 
few days reduced the whole town to ashes. Mishpach 
resolved to rebuild the place, whatever it should cost 
him ; and, having already destroyed all the timber of 
the country, he was forced to have recourse to Shalum, 
whose forests were now two hundred years old. He 
purchased these woods, with so many herds of cattle 



THE VISION OF JUSTICE. l6l 

and flocks of sheep, and with such a vast extent of 
fields and pastures, that Shalum was now grown 
more wealthy than Mishpach ; and, therefore, ap- 
peared so charming in the eyes of Zilpah's daughter, 
that she no longer refused him in marriage. On the 
day in which he brought her up into the mountains, 
he raised a most prodigious pile of cedar, and of every 
sweet-smelling wood, which reached above 300 cubits 
in height : he also cast into the pile bundles of myrrh, 
and sheaves of spikenard, enriching it with every 
spicy shrub, and making it fat with the gums of his 
plantations. This was the burnt-offering which Shalum 
offered in the day of his espousals : the smoke of it 
ascended up to heaven, and filled the whole country 
with incense and perfume. 



THE VISION OF JUSTICE. 

I WAS last week taking a solitary walk in the garden 
of Lincoln's Inn, (a favour that is indulged me by 
several of the benchers who are my intimate friends, 
and grown old with me in this neighbourhood,) when, 
according to the nature of men in years, who have 
made but httle progress in the advancement of their 
fortune or their fame, I was repining at the sudden 
rise of many persons who are my juniors, and indeed 
at the unequal distribution of wealth, honour, and all 
other blessings of life. I was lost in this thought, 
when the night air came upon me, and drew my 
mind into a far more agreeable contemplation. The 
heaven above me appeared in all its glories, and pre- 
sented me with such an hemisphere of stars, as made 
the most agreeable prospect imaginable to one who 



1 62 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 

delights in the study of nature. It happened to be a 
freezing night, which had purified the whole body of 
air into such a bright, transparent aether, as made every 
constellation visible ; and at the same time gave such 
a particular glowing to the stars, that I thought it the 
richest sky I had ever seen. I could not behold a 
scene so wonderfully adorned and lighted up, (if I 
may be allowed that expression,) without suitable 
meditations on the Author of such illustrious and 
amazing objects. For on these occasions, philosophy 
suggests motives to religion, and religion adds pleas- 
ures to philosophy. 

As soon as I had recovered my usual temper and 
serenity of soul, I retired to my lodgings with the sat- 
isfaction of having passed away a few hours in the 
proper employments of a reasonable creature, and 
promising myself that my slumbers would be sweet. 
I no sooner fell into them, but I dreamed a dream, or 
saw a vision, (for I knew not which to call it,) that 
seemed to rise out of my evening meditation, and had 
something in it so solemn and serious, that I cannot 
forbear communicating it ; though T must confess, the 
wildness of imagination (which in a dream is always 
loose and irregular) discovers itself too much in several 
parts of it. 

Methought I saw the azure sky diversified with the 
same glorious luminaries which had entertained me a 
httle before I fell asleep. I was looking very atten- 
tively on that sign in the heavens which is called by 
the name of the Balance, when on a sudden there 
appeared in it an extraordinary light, as if the sun 
should rise at midnight. By its increasing in breadth 
and lustre, I soon found that it approached towards 
the earth; and at length could discern something 
like a shadow hovering in the midst of a great glory, ' 



THE VISION OF JUSTICE. I63 

which in a Httle time after I distinctly perceived to be 
-the figure of a woman. I fancied at first it might 
have been the Angel or Intelligence that guided the 
constellation from which it descended ; but upon a 
nearer view, I saw about her all the emblems with 
which the Goddess of Justice is usually described. 
Her countenance was unspeakably awful and majestic, 
but exquisitely beautiful to those whose eyes were 
strong enough to behold it ; her smiles transported 
with rapture, her frowns terrified to despair. She 
held in her hand a mirror endowed with the same 
qualities as that which the painters put into the hand 
of Truth. 

There streamed from it a light, which distinguished 
itself from all the splendours that surrounded her, 
more than a flash of hghtning shines in the midst of 
day-light. As she moved it in her hand, it brightened 
the heavens, the air, or the earth. When she had 
descended so low as to be seen and heard by mortals, 
to make the pomp of her appearance more support- 
able, she threw darkness and clouds about her, that 
tempered the light into a thousand beautiful shades and 
colours, and multipHed that lustre, which was before too 
strong and dazzling, into a variety of milder glories. 

In the mean time the world was in an alarm, and 
all the inhabitants of it gathered together upon a 
spacious plain; so that I seemed to have all the 
species before my eyes. A voice was heard from the 
clouds, declaring the intention of this visit, which was 
to restore and appropriate to every one living what 
was his due. The fear and hope, joy and sorrow, 
which appeared in that great assembly after this sol- 
emn declaration, are not to be expressed. The first 
edict was then pronounced, * That all titles and claims 
to riches and estates, or to any parts of them, should 



164 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 

be immediately vested in the rightful owner.' Upon 
this, the inhabitants of the earth held up the instru- 
ments of their tenure, whether in parchment, paper, 
wax, or any other form of conveyance ; and as the 
goddess moved the mirror of truth which she held in 
her hand, so that the light which flowed from it fell 
upon the multitude, they examined the several instru- 
ments by the beams of it. The rays of this mirror had 
a particular quality of setting fire to all forgery and 
falsehood. The blaze of papers, the melting of seals, 
and crackling of parchments, made a very odd scene. 
The fire very often ran through two or three lines only, 
and then stopped ; though I could not but observe, 
that the flame chiefly broke out among the interlinea- 
tions and codicils. The light of the mirror as it was 
turned up and down, pierced into all the dark corners 
and recesses of the universe, and by that means 
detected many writings and records which had been 
hidden or buried by time, chance, or design. This 
occasioned a wonderful revolution among the people. 
At the same time, the spoils of extortion, fraud, and 
robbery, with all the fruits of bribery and corruption, 
were thrown together into a prodigious pile, that 
almost reached to the clouds, and was called the 
Mount of Restitution ; to which all injured persons 
were invited, to receive what belonged to them. 

One might see crowds of people in tattered gar- 
ments come up, and change clothes with others that 
were dressed with lace and embroidery. Several who 
were plums, or very near it, became men of moderate 
fortunes ; and many others, who were overgrown in 
wealth and possessions, had no more left than what 
they usually spent. What moved my concern most 
was, to see a certain street of the greatest credit in 
Europe from one end to the other become bankrupt. 



THE VISION OF JUSTICE. 165 

The next command was, for the whole body of man- 
kind to separate themselves into their proper families : 
which was no sooner done, but an edict was issued out, 
requiring all children ' to repair to their true and 
natural fathers.' This put a great part of the assembly 
in motion ; for as the mirror was moved over them, it 
inspired every one with such a natural instinct, as 
directed them to their real parents. It was a very 
melancholy spectacle to see the fathers of very large 
famihes become vacant, and bachelors undone by a 
charge of sons and daughters. You might see a pre- 
sumptive heir of a great estate ask blessing of his coach- 
man, and a celebrated toast paying her duty to a 
valet de chambre. Many under vows of celibacy 
appeared surrounded with a numerous issue. This 
change of parentage would have caused great lamen- 
tation, but that the calamity was pretty common ; and 
that generally those who lost their children, had the 
satisfaction of seeing them put into the hands of their 
dearest friends. 

Men were no sooner settled in their right to their 
possessions and their progeny, but there was a third 
order proclaimed, 'That all posts of dignity and honour 
in the universe should be conferred on persons of the 
greatest merit, abilities, and perfection.' The hand- 
some, the strong, and the wealthy immediately pressed 
forward ; but not being able to bear the splendour of 
the mirror which played upon their faces, they imme- 
diately fell back among the crowd : but as the goddess 
tried the multitude by her glass, as the eagle does its 
young ones by the lustre of the sun, it was remarkable, 
that every one turned away his face from it, who had 
not distinguished himself either by virtue, knowledge, 
or capacity in business, either mihtary or civil. This 
select assembly was drawn up in the centre of a pro- 



1 66 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 

digious multitude, which was diffused on all sides, and 
stood observing them, as idle people use to gather 
about a regiment that are exercising their arms. They 
were drawn up in three bodies : in the first, were men 
of virtue ; in the second, men of knowledge ; and in 
the third, the men of business. It was impossible to 
look at the first column without a secret veneration, 
their aspects were so sweetened with humanity, raised 
with contemplation, emboldened with resolution, and 
adorned with the most agreeable airs, which are those 
that proceed from secret habits of virtue. I could not 
but take notice, that there were many faces among 
them which were unknown, not only to the multitude, 
but even to several of their own body. 

In the second column, consisting of the men of 
knowledge, there had been great disputes before they 
fell into the ranks, which they did not do at last with- 
out positive command of the goddess who presided 
over the assembly. She had so ordered it, that men 
of the greatest genius and strongest sense were placed 
at the head of the column : behind these were such as 
had formed their minds very much on the thoughts 
and writings of others. In the rear of the column, 
were men who had more wit than sense, or more 
learning than understanding. All Hving authors of any 
value were ranged in one of these classes ; but I must 
confess, I was very much surprised to see a great body 
of editors, critics, commentators, and grammarians, 
meet with so very ill a reception. They had formed 
themselves into a body, and with a great deal of arro- 
gance demanded the first station in the column of 
knowledge ; but the goddess, instead of complying 
with their request, clapped them all into liveries, and 
bid them know themselves for no other but lacqueys 
of the learned. 



THE VISION OF JUSTICE. 16/ 

The third column were men of business, and con- 
sisting of persons in military and civil capacities. The 
former marched out from the rest, and placed them- 
selves in the front, at which the other shook their 
heads at them, but did not think fit to dispute the post 
with them. I could not but make several observations 
upon this last column of people ; but I have certain 
private reasons why I do not think fit to communicate 
them to the pubhc. In order to fill up all the posts of 
honour, dignity, and profit, there was a draught made 
out of each column, of men who were masters of all 
three qualifications in some degree, and were preferred 
to stations of the first rank. The second draught was 
made out of such as were possessed of any two of the 
quahfications, who were disposed of in stations of a 
second dignity. Those who were left, and were en- 
dowed only with one of them, had their suitable posts. 
When this was over, there remained many places of 
trust and profit unfilled, for which there were fresh 
draughts made out of the surrounding multitude, who 
had any appearance of these excellencies, or were 
recommended by those who possessed them in reality. 

All were surprised to see so many new faces in the 
most eminent dignities ; and for my own part, I was 
very well pleased to see that all my friends either kept 
their present posts, or were advanced to higher. 

The male world were dismissed by the Goddess of 
Justice, and disappeared, when on a sudden the whole 
plain was covered with women. So charming a mul- 
titude filled my heart with unspeakable pleasure ; and 
as the celestial Hght of the mirror shone upon their 
faces, several of them seemed rather persons that 
descended in the train of the goddess, than such who 
were brought before her to their trial. The clack of 
tongues, and confusion of voices, in this new assembly, 



1 68 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 

was so very great, that the goddess was forced to com- 
mand silence several times, and with some severity, 
before she could make them attentive to her edicts. 
They were all sensible, that the most important affair 
among womankind was then to be settled, which every 
one knows to be the point of place. This had raised 
innumerable disputes among them, and put the whole 
sex into a tumult. Every one produced her claim, 
and pleaded her pretensions. Birth, beauty, wit, or 
wealth, were words that rung in my ears from all parts 
of the plain. Some boasted of the merit of their hus- 
bands ; others, of their own power in governing them. 
Some pleaded their unspotted virginity ; others, their 
numerous issue. Some valued themselves as they were 
the mothers, and others as they were the daughters, of 
considerable persons. There was not a single accom- 
pHshment unmentioned, or unpractised. The whole 
congregation was full of singing, dancing, tossing, 
ogling, squeaking, smiling, sighing, fanning, frowning, 
and all those irresistible arts which women put in prac- 
tice to captivate the hearts of reasonable creatures. 
The goddess, to end this dispute, caused it to be pro- 
claimed, ' That every one should take place according 
as she was more or less beautiful' This declaration 
gave great satisfaction to the whole assembly, which 
immediately bridled up, and appeared in all its beauties. 
Such as believed themselves graceful in their motion, 
found an occasion of falling back, advancing forward, 
or making a false step, that they might show their 
persons in the most becoming air. Such as had fine 
necks and bosoms, were wonderfully curious to look 
over the heads of the multitude, and observe the most 
distant parts of the assembly. Several clapped their 
hands on their foreheads, as helping their sight to look 
upon the glories that surrounded the goddess, but in 



THE VISION OF JUSTICE. 1 69 

reality to show fine hands and arms. The ladies were 
yet better pleased when they heard, that in the deci- 
sion of this great controversy, each of them should be 
her own judge, and take her place according to her 
own opinion of herself, when she consulted her look- 
ing-glass. 

The goddess then let down the mirror of truth in a 
golden chain, which appeared larger in proportion as 
it descended and approached nearer to the eyes of 
the beholders. It was the particular property of this 
looking-glass to banish all false appearances, and 
show people what they are. The whole woman was 
represented, without regard to the usual external 
features, which were made entirely conformable to 
their real characters. In short, the most accomplished 
(taking in the whole circle of female perfections) were 
the most beautiful ; and the most defective, the most 
deformed. The goddess so varied the motion of the 
glass, and placed it in so many different lights, that 
each had an opportunity of seeing herself in it. 

It is impossible to describe the rage, the pleasure, 
or astonishment, that appeared in each face upon its 
representation in the mirror : multitudes started at 
their own form, and would have broke the glass if 
they could have reached it. Many saw their blooming 
features wither as they looked upon them, and their 
self-admiration turned into a loathing and abhorrence. 
The lady who was thought so agreeable in her anger, 
and was so often celebrated for a woman of fire and 
spirit, was frighted at her own image, and fancied 
she saw a fury in the glass. The interested mistress 
beheld a harpy, and the subtle jilt a sphinx. I was 
very much troubled in my own heart, to see such a 
destruction of fine faces ; but at the same time had 
the pleasure of seeing several improved, which I had 



I/O TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 

before looked upon as the greatest master-pieces of 
nature. I observed, that some few were so humble, 
as to be surprised at their own charms ; and that 
many a one, who had lived in the retirement and 
severity of a vestal, shined forth in all the graces and 
attractions of a siren. I was ravished at the sight 
of a particular image in the mirror, which I think 
the most beautiful object that my eyes ever beheld. 
There was something more than human in her coun- 
tenance : her eyes were so full of light, that they 
seemed to beautify everything they looked upon. Her 
face was enlivened with such a florid bloom, as did 
not so properly seem the mark of health, as of immor- 
tality. Her shape, her nature, and her mien, were 
such as distinguished her even there where the whole 
fair sex was assembled. 

I was impatient to see the lady represented by so 
divine an image, whom I found to be the person that 
stood at my right hand, and in the same point of view 
with myself. This was a little old woman, who in her 
prime had been about five foot high, though at pres- 
ent shrunk to about three quarters of that measure. 
Her natural aspect was puckered up with wrinkles, 
and her head covered with grey hairs. I had ob- 
served all along an innocent cheerfulness in her face, 
which was now heightened into rapture as she beheld 
herself in the glass. It was an odd circumstance in 
my dream, (but I cannot forbear relating it,) I con- 
ceived so great an incHnation towards her, that I had 
thoughts of discoursing her upon the point of mar- 
riage, when on a sudden she was carried from me ; 
for the word was now given, that all who were pleased 
with their own images, should separate, and place 
themselves at the head of their sex. 

This detachment was afterwards divided into three 



THE VISION OF JUSTICE. I/I 

bodies, consisting of maids, wives, and widows : the 
wives being placed in the middle, with the maids on 
the right, and widows on the left ; though it was with 
difficulty that these two last bodies were hindered 
from faUing into the centre. This separation of those, 
who liked their real selves, not having lessened the 
number of the main body so considerably as it might 
have been wished, the goddess, after having drawn 
up her mirror, thought fit to make new distinctions 
among those who did not like the figure which they 
saw in it. She made several wholesome edicts, which 
are slipped out of my mind ; but there were two 
which dwelt upon me, as being very extraordinary in 
their kind and executed with great severity. Their 
design was, to make an example of two extremes in 
the female world ; of those who are very severe on 
the conduct of others, and of those who are very 
regardless of their own. The first sentence, therefore, 
the goddess pronounced, was, 'That all females ad- 
dicted to censoriousness and detraction, should lose 
the use of speech ; ' a punishment which would be 
the most grievous to the offender, and (what should 
be the end of all punishments) effectual for rooting 
out the crime. Upon this edict, which was as soon 
executed as pubHshed, the noise of the assembly very 
considerably abated. It was a melancholy spectacle, 
to see so many who had the reputation of rigid virtue 
struck dumb. A lady who stood by me, and saw my 
concern, told me, she wondered how I could be con- 
cerned for such a pack of . I found, by the 

shaking of her head, she was going to give me their 
characters ; but by her saying no more, I perceived 
she had lost the command of her tongue. This 
calamity fell very heavy upon that part of women who 
are distinguished by the name of Prudes, a courtly 



1/2 TALES AND ALLEGORIES. 

word for female hypocrites, who have a short way to 
being virtuous, by showing that others are vicious. 
The second sentence was then pronounced against 
the loose part of the sex, * That all should immediately 
be pregnant, who in any part of their lives had ran 
the hazard of it.' This produced a very goodly ap- 
pearance, and revealed so many misconducts, that 
made those who were lately struck dumb, repine more 
than ever at their want of utterance, though at the 
same time (as afflictions seldom come single) many of 
the mutes were also seized with this new calamity. 

This vision lasted till my usual hour of waking, 
which I did with some surprise, to find myself alone, 
after having been engaged almost a whole night in 
so prodigious a multitude. I could not but reflect 
with wonder at the partiality and extravagance of my 
vision ; which, according to my thoughts, has not 
done justice to the sex. If virtue in men is more 
venerable, it is in women more lovely ; which Milton 
has very finely expressed in his Paradise Lost, where 
Adam, speaking of Eve, after having asserted his own 
pre-eminence, as being first in creation and internal 
faculties, breaks out into the following rapture : 

— Yet when I approach 
Her loveliness, so absolute she seems, 
And in herself complete, so well to know 
Her own, that what she wills to do, or say, 
Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best. 
All higher knowledge in her presence falls 
Degraded. Wisdom, in discourse with her, 
Loses, discountenanced, and like folly shows. 
Authority and reason on her wait. 
As one intended first, not after made 
Occasionally : and, to consummate all. 
Greatness of mind, and nobleness, their seat 
Build in her loveliest, and create an awe 
About her, as a guard angelic placed. 



THE COURT OF HONOUR. 



INSTITUTION OF THE COURT. 

I LAST winter erected a court of justice for the cor- 
recting of several enormities in dress and behaviour, 
which are not cognizable in any other courts of this 
realm. The vintner's case, which I there tried, is still 
fresh in every man's memory. That of the petticoat 
gave also a general satisfaction, not to mention the 
more important points of the cane and perspective ; 
in which, if I did not give judgments and decrees 
according to the strictest rules of equity and justice, I 
can safely say, I acted according to the best of my 
understanding. But as for the proceedings of that 
court, I shall refer my reader to an account of them, 
written by my secretary, which is now in the press, 
and will shortly be pubHshed under the title of ' Lillie's 
Reports.' 

As I last year presided over a court of justice, it is 
my intention this year to set myself at the head of a 
Court of Honour. There is no court of this nature 
anywhere at present, except in France, where, accord- 
ing to the best of my intelligence, it consists of such 
only as are Marshals of that kingdom. I am Hkewise 
informed, that there is not one of that honourable 
board at present who has not been driven out of the 
field by the Duke of Marlborough : but whether this 
173 



174 THE COURT OF HONOUR. 

be only an accidental, or a necessary qualification, I 
must confess I am not able to determine. 

As for the Court of Honour of which I am here 
speaking, I intend to sit myself in it as president, 
with several men of honour on my right hand, and 
women of virtue on my left, as my assistants. The 
first place of the bench I have given to an old Tan- 
gereen captain with a wooden leg. The second is a 
gentleman of a long twisted periwig without a curl in 
it, a muff with very little hair upon it, and a thread- 
bare coat with new buttons, being a person of great 
worth, and second brother to a man of quality. The 
third is a gentleman usher, extremely well read in 
romances, and grandson to one of the greatest wits 
in Germany, who was some time master of the cere- 
monies to the Duke of Wolfembuttel. 

As for those who sit further on my right hand, as it 
is usual in pubUc courts, they are such as will fill up 
the number of faces upon the bench, and serve rather 
for ornament than use. 

The chief upon my left hand are, an old maiden 
lady, that preserves some of the best blood of England 
in her veins. 

A Welsh woman of a little stature, but high spirit. 

An old prude that has censured every marriage for 
these thirty years, and is lately wedded to a young 
rake. 

Having thus furnished my bench, I shall establish 
correspondencies with the Horse-guards, and the vete- 
rans of Chelsea College; the former to furnish me 
with twelve men of honour, as often as I shall have 
occasion for a grand jury, and the latter with as many 
good men and true for a petty jury. 

As for the women of virtue, it will not be difficult for 
me to find them about midnight at crimp and basset. 



INSTITUTION OF THE COURT. 1/5 

Having given this public notice of my court, I must 
further add, that I intend to open it on this day seven- 
night, being Monday the twentieth instant ; and do 
hereby invite all such as have suffered injuries and 
affronts, that are not to be redressed by the common 
laws of this land, whether they be short bows, cold 
salutations, supercilious looks, unreturned smiles, dis- 
tant behaviour, or forced familiarity ; as also all such 
as have been aggrieved by any ambiguous expression, 
accidental justle, or unkind repartee ; likewise all such 
as have been defrauded of their right to the wall, 
tricked out of the upper end of the table, or have been 
suffered to place themselves in their own wrong on 
the back-seat of the coach : these, and all of these, I 
do, as is above-said, invite to bring in their several 
cases and complaints, in which they shall be relieved 
with all imaginable expedition. 

I am very sensible, that the office I have now taken 
upon me will engage me in the disquisition of many 
weighty points that daily perplex the youth of the 
British nation, and therefore I have already discussed 
several of them for my future use ; as, How far a man 
may brandish his cane in the telling a story, without 
insulting his hearer ? What degree of contradiction 
amounts to the He? How a man should resent an- 
other's staring and cocking a hat in his face? If 
asking pardon is an atonement for treading upon 
one's toes? Whether a man may put up a box on 
the ear received from a stranger in the dark? Or, 
whether a man of honour may take a blow of his 
wife? with several other subtilties of the hke nature. 

For my direction in the duties of my office, I have 
furnished myself with a certain astrological pair of 
scales which I have contrived for this purpose. In 
one of them I lay the injuries, in the other the repa- 



176 THE COURT OF HONOUR. 

rations. The first are represented by little weights 
made of a metal resembhng iron, and the other in 
gold. These are not only Ughter than the weights 
made use of in Avoirdupois, but also than such as 
are used in Troy weight. The heaviest of those that 
represent the injuries, amount to but a scruple ; and 
decrease by so many sub-divisions, that there are 
several imperceptible weights which cannot be seen 
without the help of a very fine microscope. I might 
acquaint my reader, that these scales were made 
under the influence of the sun when he was in Libra, 
and describe many signatures on the weights both of 
injury and reparation : but as this would look rather 
to proceed from an ostentation of my own art than 
any care for the public, I shall pass it over in silence. 



CHARGE TO THE JURY. 

Extract of the Journal of the Court of Honour, 1 710. 

Diae Lunce vicesinio Novembris, hord nond ante- 
7neridiana. 

The court being sat, an oath prepared by the 
Censor was administered to the assistants on his right 
hand, who were all sworn upon their honour. The 
women on his left hand took the same oath upon their 
reputation. Twelve gentlemen of the Horse-guards 
were impanelled, having unanimously chosen Mr. 
Alexander Truncheon, who is their right-hand man 
in the troop, for their foreman in the jury. Mr. 
Truncheon immediately drew his sword, and holding 
it with the point towards his own body, presented it 
to the Censor. Mr. Bickerstaffe received it, and after 
having surveyed the breadth of the blade, and the 



CHARGE TO THE JURY. 177 

sharpness of the point, with more than ordinary at- 
tention, returned it to the foreman, in a very graceful 
manner. The rest of the jury, upon the deHvery of 
the sword to their foreman, drew all of them together 
as one man, and saluted the bench with such an air, as 
signified the most resigned submission to those who 
commanded them, and the greatest magnanimity to 
execute what they should command. 

Mr. Bickerstaffe, after having received the com- 
phments on his right hand, cast his eye upon the left, 
where the whole female jury paid their respects by 
a low curtsey, and by laying their hands upon their 
mouths. Their fore-woman was a professed Platonist, 
that had spent much of her time in exhorting the sex 
to set a just value upon their persons, and to make the 
men know themselves. 

There followed a profound silence, when at length, 
after some recollection, the Censor, who continued 
hitherto uncovered, put on his hat with great dignity ; 
and after having composed the brims of it in a manner 
suitable to the gravity of his character, he gave the 
following charge, which was received with silence and 
attention, that being the only applause which he 
admits of, or is ever given in his presence. 

' The nature of my office, and the solemnity of this 
occasion, requiring that I should open my first session 
with a speech, I shall cast what I have to say under 
two principal heads : 

' Under the first, I shall endeavour to show the 
necessity and usefulness of this new-erected court ; 
and under the second, I shall give a word of advice 
and instruction to every constituent part of it. 

' As for the first, it is well observed by Phaedrus, an 
heathen poet. 

Nisi utile est quod facimus, frustra est gloria. 



1/8 THE COURT OF HONOUR. | 

Which is the same, ladies, as if I should say, " It 
would be of no reputation for me to be president of 
a court which is of no benefit to the public." Now 
the advantages that may arise to the weal pubhc from 
this institution will more plainly appear, if we consider 
what it suffers for the want of it. Are not our streets 
daily filled with wild pieces of justice and random 
penalties? Are not crimes undetermined, and repara- 
tions disproportioned ? How often have we seen the 
lie punished by death, and the liar himself deciding 
his own cause ; nay, not only acting the judge, but 
the executioner ! Have we not known a box on the 
ear more severely accounted for than manslaughter? 
In these extra-judicial proceedings of mankind, an 
unmannerly jest is frequently as capital as a premedi- 
tated murder. 

' But the most pernicious circumstance in this case 
is, that the man who suffers the injury must put him- 
self upon the same foot of danger with him that gave 
it, before he can have his just revenge ; so that the 
punishment is altogether accidental, and may fall as 
well upon the innocent as the guilty. I shall only 
mention a case which happens frequently among the 
more polite nations of the world, and which I the 
rather mention, because both sexes are concerned in 
it, and which therefore, you gentlemen and you ladies 
of the jury, will the rather take notice of; I mean that 
great and known case of cuckoldom. Supposing the 
person who has suffered insults in his dearer and better 
half; supposing, I say, this person should resent the 
injuries done to his tender wife ; what is the reparation 
he may expect? Why, to be used worse than his 
poor lady, run through the body, and left breathless 
upon the bed of honour? What then, will you on my 
right hand say, must the man do that is affronted? 



CHARGE TO THE JURY. 1/9 

Must our sides be elbowed, our shins broken? Must 
the wall, or perhaps our mistress, be taken from us ? 
May a man knit his forehead into a frown, toss up his 
arm, or pish at what we say ; and must the villain live 
after it? Is there no redress for injured honour? Yes, 
gentlemen, that is the design of the judicature we 
have here established. 

' A court of conscience, we very well know, was 
first instituted for the determining of several points of 
property that were too Httle and trivial for the cogni- 
zance of higher courts of justice. In the same manner, 
our court of honour is appointed for the examination 
of several niceties and punctilios that do not pass for 
wrongs in the eye of our common laws. But, not- 
withstanding no legislators of any nation have taken 
into consideration these little circumstances, they are 
such as often lead to crimes big enough for their in- 
spection, though they come before them too late for 
their redress. 

' Besides, I appeal to you, ladies, [here Mr. Bicker- 
staffe turned to his left hand,] if these are not the 
little stings and thorns in life that make it more uneasy 
than its most substantial evils? Confess ingenuously, 
did you never lose a morning's devotions, because you 
could not offer them up from the highest place of the 
pew? Have you not been in pain, even at a ball, be- 
cause another has been taken 'out to dance before 
you? Do you love any of your friends so much as 
those that are below you ? Or have you any favourites 
that walk on your right hand? You have answered 
me in your looks, I ask no more. 

' I come now to the second part of my discourse, 
which obliges me to address myself in particular to 
the respective members of the court, in which I shall 
be very brief. 



l80 THE COURT OF HONOUR. 

' As for you, gentlemen and ladies, my assistants and 
grand juries, I have made choice of you on my right 
hand, because I know you very jealous of your honour ; 
and you on my left, because I know you very much 
concerned for the reputation of others ; for which 
reason I expect great exactness and impartiality in 
your verdicts and judgments. 

' I must in the next place address myself to you, 
gentlemen of the council : you all know, that I have 
not chosen you for your knowledge in the htigious 
parts of the law, but because you have all of you for- 
merly fought duels, of which I have reason to think 
you have repented, as being now settled in the peace- 
able state of benchers. My advice to you is, only, 
that in your pleadings you are short and expressive ; 
to which end you are to banish out of your discourses 
all synonymous terms, and unnecessary multipUcations 
of verbs and nouns. I do moreover forbid you the 
use of the words also and Ukeivise ; and must further 
declare, that if I catch any one among you, upon any 
pretence whatsoever, using the particle or^ I shall 
instantly order him to be stripped of his gown, and 
thrown over the bar.' 



TRIAL OF PUNCTILIOS. 

The proceedings of the Court of Honour, held in Sheer Lane, 
on Monday, the 20th of November, 1 710, before Isaac 
Bickerstaffe, Esq., Censor of Great Britain. 

Peter Plumb, of London, merchant, was indicted 
by the Honourable Mr. Thomas Gules, of Gule Hall, 
in the county of Salop, for that the said Peter Plumb 
did in Lombard Street, London, between the hours of 
two and three in the afternoon, meet the said Mr. 



TRIAL OF PUNCTILIOS. l8l 

Thomas Gules, and after a short salutation, put on his 
hat, value five pence, while the Honourable Mr. Gules 
stood bare-headed for the space of two seconds. It 
was further urged against the criminal, that, during his 
discourse with the prosecutor, he feloniously stole the 
wall of him, having clapped his back against it in such 
a manner that it was impossible for Mr. Gules to 
recover it again at his taking leave of him. The 
prosecutor alleged, that he was the cadet of a very 
ancient family, and that, according to the principles 
of all the younger brothers of the said family, he had 
never sulHed himself with business, but had chosen 
rather to starve like a man of honour, than do any- 
thing beneath his quality. He produced several wit- 
nesses, that he had never employed himself beyond 
the twisting of a whip, or the making of a pair of 
nutcrackers, in which he only worked for his diver- 
sion, in order to make a present now and then to his 
friends. The prisoner being asked what he could say 
for himself, cast several reflections upon the Honour- 
able Mr. Gules : as, that he was not worth a groat ; 
that nobody in the city would trust him for a half- 
penny ; that he owed him money which he had prom- 
ised to pay him several times, but never kept his 
word : and in short, that he was an idle, beggarly 
fellow, and of no use to the public. This sort of 
language was very severely reprimanded by the Cen- 
sor, who told the criminal, that he spoke in contempt 
of the court, and that he should be proceeded 
against for contumacy, if he did not change his style. 
The prisoner, therefore, desired to be heard by his 
counsel, who urged in his defence, ' That he put on 
his hat through ignorance, and took the wall by 
accident.' They likewise produced several witnesses, 
that h§ made several motions with his hat in his hand, 



1 82 THE COURT OF HONOUR. 

which are generally understood as an invitation to the 
person we talk with to be covered; and that the 
gentleman not taking the hint, he was forced to put 
on his hat, as being troubled with a cold. There was 
likewise an Irishman who deposed, that he had heard 
him cough three and twenty times that morning. And 
as for the wall, it was alleged, that he had taken it 
inadvertently, to save himself from a shower of rain 
which was then falling. The Censor having consulted 
the men of honour who sat at his right hand on the 
bench, found they were of opinion, that the defence 
made by the prisoner's counsel did rather aggravate 
than extenuate his crime ; that the motions and in- 
timations of the hat were a token of superiority in 
conversation, and therefore not to be used by the 
criminal to a man of the prosecutor's quaUty, who was 
likewise vested with a double title to the wall at the 
time of their conversation, both as it was the upper 
hand, and as it was a shelter from the weather. The 
evidence being very full and clear, the jury, without 
going out of court, declared their opinion unanimously 
by the mouth of their foreman, that the prosecutor was 
bound in honour to make the sun shine through the 
criminal, or, as they afterwards explained themselves, 
to whip him through the lungs. 

The Censor knitting his brows into a frown, and 
looking very sternly upon the jury, after a little pause, 
gave them to know, that this court was erected for the 
finding out of penalties suitable to offences, and to 
restrain the outrages of private justice ; and that he 
expected they should moderate their verdict. The 
jury, therefore, retired, and being willing to comply 
with the advices of the Censor, after an hour's consul- 
tation, declared their opinion as follows : 

* That in consideration this was Peter Plumb's first 



I 



TRIAL OF PUNCTILIOS. 1 83 

offence, and that there did not appear any "malice 
prepense " in it, as also that he lived in good reputa- 
tion among his neighbours, and that his taking the 
wall was only se defendendo, the prosecutor should let 
him escape with life, and content himself with the slit- 
ting of his nose, and the cutting off both his ears.' 
Mr. Bickerstaffe, smiling upon the court, told them, 
that he thought the punishment, even under its pres- 
ent mitigation, too severe ; and that such penalties 
might be of ill consequence in a trading nation. He 
therefore pronounced sentence against the criminal in 
the following manner : * That his hat, which was the 
instrument of offence, should be forfeited to the court ; 
that the criminal should go to the warehouse from 
whence he came, and thence, as occasion should re- 
quire, proceed to the Exchange, or Garraway's coffee- 
house, in what manner he pleased ; but that neither 
he, nor any of the family of the Plumbs, should 
hereafter appear in the streets of London out of their 
coaches, that so the foot-way might be left open and 
undisturbed for their betters.' 

Dathan, a peddling Jew, and T. R — , a Welshman, 
were indicted by the keeper of an alehouse in West- 
minster, for breaking the peace and two earthen mugs, 
in a dispute about the antiquity of their families, to 
the great detriment of the house, and disturbance of 
the whole neighbourhood. Dathan said for himself, 
that he was provoked to it by the Welshman, who 
pretended that the Welsh were an ancienter people 
than the Jews ; ' Whereas, (says he,) I can show by 
this genealogy in my hand, that I am the son of 
Mesheck, that was the son of Naboth, that was the 
son of Shalem, that was the son of — ' The Welshman 
here interrupted him, and told him, ' That he could 
produce shennalogy as well as himself; for that he 



184 THE COURT OF HONOUR. 

was John ap Rice, ap Shenkin, ap Shones.' He then 
turned himself to the Censor, and told him in the 
same broken accent, and with much warmth, 'That 
the Jew would needs uphold, that King Cadwallader 
was younger than Issachar.' Mr. Bickerstaffe seemed 
very much inclined to give sentence against Dathan, 
as being a Jew, but finding reasons, by some ex- 
pressions which the Welshman let fall in asserting 
the antiquity of his family, to suspect that the said 
Welshman was a Prae-Adamite, he suffered the jury 
to go out, without any previous admonition. After 
some time they returned, and gave their verdict, that 
it appearing the persons at the bar did neither of 
them wear a sword, and that consequently they had 
no right to quarrel upon a point of honour ; to prevent 
such frivolous appeals for the future, they should both 
of them be tossed in the same blanket, and there 
adjust the superiority as they could agree it between 
themselves. The Censor confirmed the verdict. 

Richard Newman was indicted by Major Punto, for 
having used the words, ' Perhaps it may be so,' in a 
dispute with the said major. The major urged, that 
the word ' Perhaps ' was questioning his veracity, and 
that it was an indirect manner of giving him the lie. 
Richard Newman had nothing more to say for him- 
self, than that he intended no such thing, and threw 
himself upon the mercy of the court. The jury brought 
in their verdict special. 

Mr. Bickerstaffe stood up, and after having cast his 
eyes over the whole assembly, hemmed thrice. He 
then acquainted them, that he had laid dt)wn a rule to 
himself, which he was resolved never to depart from, 
and which, as he conceived, would very much conduce 
•to the shortening the business of the court ; I mean, 
says he, never to allow of the lie being given by 



CASES OF FALSE DELICACY. 1 85 

construction, implication, or induction, but by the 
sole use of the word itself. He then proceeded to 
show the great mischiefs that had arisen to the 
English nation from that pernicious monosyllable ; 
that it had bred the most fatal quarrels between the 
dearest friends ; that it had frequently thinned the 
guards, and made great havoc in the army; that it 
had sometimes weakened the city trained-bands ; and, 
in a word, had destroyed many of the bravest men in 
the isle of Great Britain. For the prevention of which 
evils for the future, he instructed the jury to ' present ' 
the word itself as a nuisance in the English tongue ; 
and further promised them, that he would upon such 
their presentment, publish an edict of the court for 
the entire banishment and exclusion of it out of the 
discourses and conversation of all civil societies. 



CASES OF FALSE DELICACY. 

A Continuation of the Journal of the Court of Honour, held in 
Sheer Lane, on Monday, the 27th of November, before Isaac 
Bickerstaffe, Esq., Censor of Great Britain. 

Elizabeth Makebate, of the parish of St. Cathe- 
rine's, spinster, was indicted for surreptitiously taking 
away the hassoc from under the Lady Grave-Airs, 
between the hours of four and five, on Sunday the 
26th of November. The prosecutor deposed, that as 
she stood up to make a curtsey to a person of quality 
in a neighbouring pew, the criminal conveyed away 
the hassoc by stealth, insomuch that the prosecutor 
was obliged to sit all the whole while she was at 
church, or to say her prayers in a posture that did 
not become a woman of her quality. The prisoner 



1 86 THE COURT OF HONOUR. 

pleaded inadvertency; and the jury were going to 
bring it in chancemedley, had not several witnesses 
been produced against the said EHzabeth Makebate, 
that she was an old offender, and a woman of a bad 
reputation. It appeared in^ particular, that on the 
Sunday before she had detracted from a new petticoat 
of Mrs. Mary Doelittle, having said in the hearing 
of several credible witnesses, that the said petticoat 
was scowered, to the great grief and detriment of the 
said Mary Doelittle. There were likewise many evi- 
dences produced against the criminal, that though she 
never failed to come to church on Sunday, she was 
a most notorious sabbath-breaker, and that she spent 
her whole time, during divine service, in disparaging 
other people's clothes, and whispering to those who 
sat next her. Upon the whole, she was found guilty 
of the indictment, and received sentence to ask pardon 
of the prosecutor upon her bare knees, without either 
cushion or hassoc under her, in the face of the court. 

N.B. As soon as the sentence was executed on 
the criminal, which was done in open court with the 
utmost severity, the first lady of the bench on Mr. 
Bickerstaffe's right hand stood up, and made a motion 
to the court, that whereas it was impossible for 
women of fashion to dress themselves before the 
church was half done, and whereas many confusions 
and inconveniences did arise thereupon, it might be 
lawful for them to send a footman, in order to keep 
their places, as was usual in other polite and well- 
regulated assemblies. The motion was ordered to 
be entered in the books, and considered at a more 
convenient time. 

Charles Cambrick, Linen-draper, in the city of 
Westminster, was indicted for speaking obscenely to 
the Lady Penelope Touchwood. It appeared, that 



CASES OF FALSE DELICACY. 1 87 

the prosecutor and her woman going in a stage-coach 
from London to Brentford, where they were to be 
met by the lady's own chariot, the criminal and 
another of his acquaintance travelled with them in 
the same coach, at which time the prisoner talked 
bawdy for the space of three miles and a half. The 
prosecutor alleged, ' That over against the Old Fox at 
Knightsbridge, he mentioned the word linen ; that at 
the further end of Kensington he made use of the 
term smock ; and that before he came to Hammer- 
smith, he talked almost a quarter of an hour upon 
wedding-shifts.' The prosecutor's woman confirmed 
what her lady had said, and added further, ' that she 
had never seen her lady in so great confusion, and in 
such a taking, as she was during the whole discourse 
of the criminal. The prisoner had little to say for 
himself, but that he talked only in his own trade, and 
meant no hurt by what he said. The jury, however, 
found him guilty, and represented by their forewoman, 
that such discourses were apt to sully the imagination, 
and that by a concatenation of ideas, the word linen 
implied many things that were not proper to be stirred 
up in the mind of a woman who was of the prose- 
cutor's quality, and therefore gave it as their verdict, 
that the linen-draper should lose his tongue. Mr. 
Bickerstaffe said, ' He thought the prosecutor's ears 
were as much to blame as the prisoner's tongue, and 
therefore gave sentence as follows : That they should 
both be placed over against one another in the midst 
of the court, there to remain for the space of one 
quarter of an hour, during which time, the linen- 
draper was to be gagged, and the lady to hold her 
hands close upon both her ears ; ' which was executed 
accordingly. 

Edward Callicoat was indicted as an accomplice to 



1 88 THE COURT OF HONOUR. 

Charles Cambrick, for that he the said Edward Calli- 
coat did, by his silence and his smiles, seem to ap- 
prove and abet the said Charles Cambrick in every- 
thing he said. It appeared, that the prisoner was 
foreman of the shop to the aforesaid Charles Cam- 
brick, and by his post obliged to smile at everything 
that the other should be pleased to say : upon which 
he was acquitted. 

Josias Shallow was indicted in the name of Dame . 
Winnifred, sole relict of Richard Dainty, Esq., for 
having said several times in company, and in the 
hearing of several persons there present, that he was 
extremely obliged to the widow Dainty, and that he 
should never be able sufficiently to express his grati- 
tude. The prosecutor urged, that this might blast her 
reputation, and that it was in effect a boasting of 
favours which he had never received. The prisoner 
seemed to be much astonished at the construction 
which was put upon his words, and said, ' That he 
meant nothing by them, but that the widow had be- 
friended him in a lease, and was very kind to his 
younger sister.' The jury finding him a little weak 
in his understanding, without going out of the court, 
brought in their verdict, ignoramus. 

Ursula Goodenough was accused by the Lady Betty 
Wou' dbe, for having said, that she the Lady Betty 
Wou' dbe was painted. The prisoner brought several 
persons of good credit to witness to her reputation, and 
proved by undeniable evidences, that she was never at 
the place where the words were said to have been 
uttered. The Censor observing the behaviour of the 
prosecutor, found reason to believe that she had in- 
dicted the prisoner for no other reason but to make 
her complexion be taken notice of, which indeed was 
very fresh and beautiful; he therefore asked the 



TRIAL OF ladies' QUARRELS. 1 89 

offender with a very stern voice, how she could pre- 
sume to spread so groundless a report? And whether 
she saw any colours in the Lady Wou' dbe's face that 
could procure credit to such a falsehood ? ' Do you 
see (says he) any liHes or roses in her cheeks, any 
bloom, any probability ?' — The prosecutor, not able 
to bear such language any longer, told him, that he 
talked like a blind old fool, and that she was ashamed 
to have entertained any opinion of his wisdom : but she 
was put to silence, and sentenced to wear her mask 
for five months, and not presume to show her face till 
the town should be empty. 

Benjamin Buzzard, Esq., was indicted having told 
the Lady Everbloom at a public ball, that she looked 
very well for a woman of her years. The prisoner not 
denying the fact, and persisting before the court that 
he looked upon it as a compliment, the jury brought 
him in non compos metitis. 



TRIAL OF LADIES' QUARRELS. 

Timothy Treatall, Gent., was indicted by several 
ladies of his sister's acquaintance for a very rude 
affront offered to them at an entertainment, to which 
he had invited them on Tuesday the 7th of November 
last past, between the hours of eight and nine in the 
evening. The indictment set forth that the said 
Mr. Treatall, upon the serving up of the supper, 
desired the ladies to take their places according to 
their different age and seniority, for that it was the 
way always at his table to pay respect to years. The 
indictment added, that this produced an unspeakable 
confusion in the company; for that the ladies, who 



190 THE COURT OF HONOUR. 

before had pressed together for a place at the upper 
end of the table, immediately crowded with the same 
disorder towards the end that was quite opposite ; 
that Mrs. Frontly had the insolence to clap herself 
down at the very lowest place of the table ; that the 
widow Partlett seated herself on the right hand of 
Mrs. Frontly, alleging for her excuse, that no cere- 
mony was to be used at a round table ; that Mrs. 
Fidget and Mrs. Fescue disputed about half an hour 
for the same chair, and that the latter would not give 
up the cause till it was decided by the parish register, 
which happened to be kept hard by. The indictment 
further said, that the rest of the company who sat 
down did it with a reserve to their right, which they 
were at liberty to assert on another occasion ; and 
that Mrs. Mary Pippe, an old maid, was placed by 
the unanimous vote of the whole company at the 
upper end of the table, from whence she had the con- 
fusion to behold several mothers of famiUes among 
her inferiors. The criminal alleged in his defence, 
that what he had done was to raise mirth and avoid 
ceremony, and that the ladies did not complain of his 
rudeness till the next morning, having eaten up what 
he had provided for them with great readiness and 
alacrity. The Censor, frowning upon him, told him, 
that he ought not to discover so much levity in matters 
of a serious nature, and (upon the jury's bringing him 
in guilty) sentenced him to treat the whole assembly 
of ladies over again, and to take care that he did it 
with the decorum which was due to persons of their 
quality. 

Rebecca Shapely, spinster, was indicted by Mrs. 
Sarah Smack, for speaking many words reflecting 
upon her reputation, and the heels of her silk shppers, 
which the prisoner had maliciously suggested to be 



TRIAL OF LADIES QUARRELS. I9I 

two inches higher than they really were. The prose- 
cutor urged, as an aggravation of her guilt, that the 
prisoner was herself guilty of the same kind of forgery 
which she had laid to the prosecutor's charge, for that 
she the said Rebecca Shapely did always wear a pair 
of steel bodice, and a false rump. The Censor ordered 
the slippers to be produced in open court, where the 
heels were adjudged to be of the statutable size. He 
then ordered the grand jury to search the criminal, 
who, after some time spent therein, acquitted her of 
the bodice, but found her guilty of the rump ; upon 
which she received sentence as is usual in such cases. 
William Trippitt, Esq., of the Middle Temple, 
brought his action against the Lady Elizabeth Prudely, 
for having refused him her hand as he offered to lead 
her to her coach from the opera. The plaintiff set 
forth, that he had entered himself into the list of those 
volunteers who officiate every night behind the boxes 
as gentlemen-ushers of the play-house : that he had 
been at a considerable charge in white gloves, peri- 
wigs, and snuff-boxes, in order to qualify himself for 
that employment, and in hopes of making his fortune 
by it. The counsel for the defendant rephed, that the 
plaintiff had given out that he was within a month 
of wedding their client, and that she had refused her 
hand to him in ceremony lest he should interpret it as 
a promise that she would give it him in marriage. 
As soon as their pleadings on both sides were finished, 
the Censor ordered the plaintiff to be cashiered from 
his office of gentleman-usher to the play-house, since 
it was too plain that he had undertaken it with an ill 
design ; and at the time ordered the defendant either 
to marry the said plaintiff, or to pay him half-a-crown 
for the new pair of gloves and coach-hire that he was 
at the expense of in her service. 



192 THE COURT OF HONOUR. 

The Lady Townly brought an action of debt against 
Mrs. Flambeau, for that Mrs. Flambeau had not been 
to see the said Lady Townly, and wish her joy, since 
her marriage with Sir Ralph, notwithstanding she the 
said Lady Townly had paid Mrs. Flambeau a visit 
upon her first coming to town. It was urged in the 
behalf of the defendant, that the plaintiff had never 
given her any regular notice of her being in town ; 
that the visit she alleged had been made on a Monday, 
which she knew was a day on which Mrs. Flambeau 
was always abroad, having set aside that only day in 
the week to mind the affairs of her family ; that the 
servant who inquired whether she was at home, did 
not give the visiting knock ; that it was not between 
the hours of five and eight in the evening ; that there 
were no candles lighted up ; that it was not on 
Mrs. Flambeau's day ; and, in short, that there was 
not one of the essential points observed that con- 
stitute a visit. She further proved by her porter's 
book, which was produced in court, that she had paid 
the Lady Townly a visit on the twenty-fourth day of 
March, just before her leaving the town, in the year 
1709-10, for which she was still creditor to the said 
Lady Townly. To this the plaintiff only replied, that 
she was now only under covert, and not liable to any 
debts contracted when she was a single woman. 
Mr. Bickerstaffe finding the cause to be very intricate, 
and that several points of honour were likely to arise 
in it, he deferred giving judgment upon it till the next 
session day, at which time he ordered the ladies on 
his left hand to present to the court a table of all the 
laws relating to visits. 

Winifred Leer brought her action against Richard 
Sly, for having broken a marriage contract, and 
wedded another woman, after he had engaged him 



II 



TRIAL OF FALSE AFFRONTS. I93 

self to marry the said Winifred Leer. She alleged, 
that he had ogled her twice at an opera, thrice in 
St. James's church, and once at Powel's puppet-show, 
at which time he promised her marriage by a side- 
glance, as her friend could testify that sat by her. 
Mr. Bickerstaffe finding that the defendant had made 
no further overture of love or marriage, but by looks 
and ocular engagement ; yet at the same time con- 
sidering how very apt such impudent seducers are to 
lead the ladies' hearts astray, ordered the criminal to 
stand upon the stage in the Haymarket, between each 
act of the next opera, there to be exposed to public 
view as a false ogler. 

Upon the rising of the court, Mr. Bickerstaffe having 
taken one of these counterfeits in the very fact, as he 
was ogling a lady of the grand jury, ordered him to be 
seized, and prosecuted upon the statute of ogling. He 
hkewise directed the clerk of the court to draw up an 
edict against these common cheats, that make women 
believe they are distracted for them by staring them 
out of countenance, and often blast a lady's reputation 
whom they never spoke to, by saucy looks and distant 
familiarities. 



TRIAL OF FALSE AFFRONTS. 

As soon as the court was sat, the ladies of the bench 
presented, according to order, a table of all the laws 
now in force, relating to visits and visiting days, me- 
thodically digested under their respective heads, which 
the Censor ordered to be laid upon the table, and 
afterwards proceeded upon the business of the day. 

Henry Heedless, Esq., was indicted by Colonel 
Touchy, of her Majesty's trained bands, upon an 



194 THE COURT OF HONOUR, 

action of assault and battery ; for that he the said Mr. 
Heedless, having espied a feather upon the shoulder 
of the said colonel, struck it off gently with the end of 
a walking staff, value three-pence. It appeared, that 
the prosecutor did not think himself injured till a few 
days after the aforesaid blow was given him ; but that 
having ruminated with himself for several days, and 
conferred upon it with other officers of the militia, he 
concluded, that he had in effect been cudgelled by 
Mr. Heedless, and that he ought to resent it accord- 
ingly. The counsel for the prosecutor alleged, that 
the shoulder was the tenderest part in a man of 
honour ; that it had a natural antipathy to a stick, and 
that every touch of it, with anything made in the 
fashion of a cane, was to be interpreted as a wound in 
that part, and a violation of the person's honour who 
received it. Mr. Heedless replied, that what he had 
done was out of kindness to the prosecutor, as not 
thinking it proper for him to appear at the head of 
the trained bands with a feather upon his shoulder; 
and further added, that the stick he made use of on 
this occasion was so very small, that the prosecutor 
could not have felt it, had he broken it on his 
shoulders. The Censor hereupon directed the jury to 
examine into the nature of the staff", for that a great 
deal would depend upon that particular. Upon which 
he explained to them the diff"erent degrees of offence 
that might be given by the touch of crab-tree from 
that of cane, and by the touch of cane from that of a 
plain hazel stick. The jury, after a short perusal of 
the staff", declared their opinion by the mouth of their 
foreman, that the substance of the staff was British oak. 
The Censor then observing that there was some dust 
on the skirts of the criminal's coat, ordered the prose- 
cutor to beat it off" with his aforesaid oaken plant; 



TRIAL OF FALSE AFFRONTS. 195 

'And thus, (said the Censor,) I shall decide this 
cause by the law of retaliation : if Mr. Heedless did 
the colonel a good office, the colonel will, by this 
means, return it in kind ; but if Mr. Heedless should 
at any time boast that he had cudgelled the colonel, 
\ or laid his staff over his shoulders, the colonel might 
; boast in his turn, that he has brushed Mr. Heedless's 
(jacket, or (to use the phrase of an ingenious author) 
that he has rubbed him down with an oaken towel.' 
i Benjamin Busy, of London, merchant, was indicted 
I by Jasper Tattle, Esq., for having pulled out his watch, 
I and looked upon it thrice, while the said Esquire Tattle 
{was giving him an account of the funeral of the said 
Esquire Tattle's first wife. The prisoner alleged in 
his defence, that he was going to buy stocks at the 
time when he met the prosecutor ; and that, during 
the story of the prosecutor, the said stocks rose above 
two per cent., to the great detriment of the prisoner. 
The prisoper further brought several witnesses, that 
the said Jasper Tattle, Esq. was a most notorious 
story-teller ; that before he met the prisoner, he had 
hindered one of the prisoner's acquaintance from the 
pursuit of his lawful business, with the account of his 
second marriage ; and that he had detained another 
by the button of his coat that very morning, till he 
had heard several witty sayings and contrivances of 
the prosecutor's eldest son, who was a boy of about five 
years of age. Upon the whole matter, Mr. Bicker- 
staffe dismissed the accusation as frivolous, and 
sentenced the prosecutor to pay damages to the 
prisoner for what the prisoner had lost by giving him 
so long and patient an hearing. He further repri- 
manded the prosecutor very severely, and told him, that 
if he proceeded in his usual manner to interrupt the 
business of mankind, he would set a fine upon him foi 

1 



196 THE COURT OF HONOUR. 

every quarter of an hour's impertinence, and regulate 
the said fine according as the time of the person so 
injured should appear to be more or less precious. 

Sir Paul Swash, Kt., was indicted by Peter Double, 
Gent., for not returning the bow which he received of 
the said Peter Double, on Wednesday the sixth instant, 
at the play-house in the Haymarket. The prisoner 
denied the receipt of any such bow, and alleged in his 
defence, that the prosecutor would oftentimes look 
full in his face, but that when he bowed to the said 
prosecutor, he would take no notice of it, or bow to 
somebody else that sat quite on the other side of him. 
He likewise alleged, that several ladies had complained 
of the prosecutor, who, after ogUng them a quarter of 
an hour, upon their making a curtsey to him, would 
not return the civihty of a bow. The Censor observ- 
ing several glances of the prosecutor's eye, and per- 
ceiving, that when he talked to the court he looked 
upon the jury, found reason to suspect that there was 
a wrong cast in his sight, which upon examination 
proved true. The Censor therefore ordered the 
prisoner (that he might not produce any more confu- 
sions in public assembUes) never to bow to anybody 
whom he did not at the same time call to by his 
name. 

Oliver Bluff, and Benjamin Browbeat, were indicted 
for going to fight a duel since the erection of the 
Court of Honour. It appeared, that they were both 
taken up in the street as they passed by the court, in 
their way to the fields behind Montague House. The 
criminals would answer nothing for themselves, but 
that they were going to execute a challenge which had 
been made above a week before the Court of Honour 
was erected. The Censor finding some reasons to sus- 
pect, (by the sturdiness of their behaviour,) that they 



TRIAL OF FALSE AFFRONTS. 1 97 

were not so very brave as they would have the court 
beUeve them, ordered them both to be searched by 
the grand jury, who found a breast-plate upon the one, 
and two quires of paper upon the other. The breast- 
plate was immediately ordered to be hung upon a peg 
over Mr. Bickerstaffe's tribunal, and the paper to be 
laid upon the table for the use of his clerk. He then 
ordered the criminals to button up their bosoms, and, 
if they pleased, proceed to their duel. Upon which, 
they both went very quietly out of the court, and 
retired to their respective lodgings. 



COUNTRY HUMOURS. 



THE TORY FOXHUNTER. 

For the honour of his Majesty, and the safety of 
his government, we cannot but observe, that those who 
have appeared the greatest enemies to both, are of 
that rank of men, who are commonly distinguished by 
the title of Foxhunters. As several of these have had 
no part of their education in cities, camps, or courts, 
it is doubtful whether they are of greater ornament or 
use to the nation in which they live. It would be an 
everlasting reproach to politics, should such men be 
able to overturn an establishment which has been 
formed by the wisest laws, and is supported by the 
ablest heads. The wrong notions and prejudices 
which cleave to many of these country gentlemen, 
who have always lived out of the way of being better 
informed, are not easy to be conceived by a person 
who has never conversed with them. 

That I may give my readers an image of -these rural 
statesmen, I shall, without further preface, set down 
an account of a discourse I chanced to have with one 
of them some time ago. I was travelHng towards one 
of the remote parts of England, when about three 
o'clock in the afternoon, seeing a country gentleman 
trotting before me with a spaniel by his horse's side, I 
made up to him. Our conversation opened, as usual, 
upon the weather ; in which we were very unanimous ; 
198 



THE TORY FOXHUNTER. IQQ 

having both agreed that it was too dry for the season 
of the year. My fellow-traveller, upon this, observed 
to me, that there had been no good weather since the 
Revolution. I was a little startled at so extraordinary 
a remark, but would not interrupt him till he pro- 
ceeded to tell me of the fine weather they used to 
have in King Charles the Second's reign. I only 
answered that I did not see how the badness of 
the weather could be the king's fault ; and, with- 
out waiting for his reply, asked him whose house it 
was we saw upon the rising ground at a little dis- 
tance from us. He told me it belonged to an old 
fanatical cur, Mr. Such-a-one. ' You must have heard 
of him,' says he, ' he's one of the Rump.' I knew the 
gentleman's character upon hearing his name, but 
assured him, that to my knowledge he was a good 
churchman : ' Ay ! ' says he, with a kind of surprise, 
' We were told in the country, that he spoke twice, in 
the queen's time, against taking off the duties upon 
French claret.' This naturally led us in the proceed- 
ings of late parhaments, upon which occasion he 
affirmed roundly, that there had not been one good 
law passed since King William's accession to the 
throne, except the act for preserving the game. I 
had a mind to see him out, and therefore did not care 
for contradicting him. ' Is it not hard,' says he, 
' that honest gentlemen should be taken into custody 
of messengers to prevent them from acting according 
to their consciences? But,' says he, 'what can we 

expect when a parcel of factious sons of whores ' 

He was going on in great passion, but chanced to miss 
his dog, who was amusing himself about a bush, that 
grew at some distance behind us. We stood still till 
he had whistled him up; when he fell into a long 
panegyric upon his spaniel, who seemed, indeed, 



200 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 

excellent in his kind : but I found the most remark- 
able adventure of his life was, that he had once Hke to 
have worried a dissenting teacher. The master could 
hardly sit on his horse for laughing all the while he 
was giving me the particulars of his story, which I 
found had mightily endeared his dog to him, and as he 
himself told me, had made him a great favourite 
among all the honest gentlemen of the country. We 
were at length diverted from this piece of mirth by a 
post-boy, who winding his horn at us, my companion 
gave him two or three curses, and left the way clear 
for him. 'I fancy,' said I, ^ that post brings news 
from Scotland. I shall long to see the next Gazette.' 
•' Sir,' says he, ' I make it a rule never to believe any of 
your printed news. We never see, sir, how things go, 
except now and then in Dyer's Letter, and I read that 
more for the style than the news. The man has a 
clever pen, it must be owned. But is it not strange 
that we should be making war upon Church of Eng- 
land men with Dutch and Swiss soldiers, men of anti- 
monarchical principles? these foreigners will never be 
loved in England, sir ; they have not that wit and 
good-breeding that we have.' I must confess I did 
not expect to hear my new acquaintance value himself 
upon these qualifications, but finding him such a critic 
upon foreigners, I asked him if he had ever travelled ; 
he told me, he did not know what travelling was good 
for, but to teach a man to ride the great horse, to 
jabber French, and to talk against passive obedience : 
to which he added, that he scarce ever knew a trav- 
eller m his life who had not forsook his principles, 
and lost his hunting-seat. ^ For my part,' says he, * I 
and my father before me have always been for passive 
obedience, and shall be always for opposing a prince 
who makes use of ministers that are of another opinion. 



THE TORY FOXHUNTER. 20I 

But where do you intend to inn to-night? (for we were 
now come in sight of the next town;) I can help you 
to a very good landlord if you will go along with me. 
He is a lusty, jolly fellow, that hves well, at least three 
yards in the girt, and the best Church of England man 
upon the road.' I had a curiosity to see this high- 
church inn-keeper, as well- as to enjoy more of the 
conversation of my fellow-traveller, and therefore 
readily consented to set our horses together for that 
night. As we rode side by side through the town, I 
was let into the characters of all the principal inhab- 
itants whom we met in our way. One was a dog, 
another a whelp, another a cur, and another the son 
of a bitch, under which several denominations were 
comprehended all that voted on the Whig side, in the 
last election of burgesses. As for those of his own 
party, he distinguished them by a nod of his head, 
and asking them how they did by their Christian 
names. Upon our arrival at the inn, my companion 
fetched out the jolly landlord, who knew him by his 
whistle. Many endearments and private whispers 
passed between them ; though it was easy to see by 
the landlord's scratching his head that things did not 
go to their wishes. The landlord had swelled his 
body to a prodigious size, and worked up his com- 
plexion to a standmg crimson by his zeal for the pros- 
perity of the church, which he expressed every hour 
of the day, as his customers dropt in, by repeated 
bumpers. He had not time to go to church himself, 
but, as my friend told me in my ear, had headed a 
molD at the pulling down of two or three meeting- 
houses. While supper was preparing, he enlarged 
upon the happiness of the neighbouring shire ; * For,' 
says he, ' there is scarce a Presbyterian in the whole 
county, except the bishop.' In short, I found by his 



202 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 

discourse that he had learned a great deal of politics, 
but not one word of religion, from the parson of his 
parish ; and, indeed, that he had scarce any other 
notion of religion, but that it consisted in hating 
Presbyterians. I had a remarkable instance of his 
notions in this particular. Upon seeing a poor de- 
crepit old woman pass under the window where we 
sat, he desired me to take notice of her ; and after- 
wards informed me, that she was generally reputed a 
witch by the country people, but that, for his part, he 
was apt to believe she was a Presbyterian. 

Supper was no sooner served in, than he took 
occasion from a shoulder of mutton that lay before us, 
to cry up the plenty of England, which would be the 
happiest country in the world, provided we would live 
within ourselves. Upon which, he expatiated on the 
inconveniences of trade, that carried from us the 
commodities of our country, and made a parcel of up- 
starts as rich as men of the most ancient families of 
England. He then declared frankly, that he had 
always been against all treaties and alliances with for- 
eigners : ' Our wooden walls,' says he, ' are our security, 
and we may bid defiance to the whole world, espe- 
cially if they should attack us when the militia is out.' 
I ventured to reply, that I had as great an opinion of 
the English fleet as he had ; but I could not see how 
they could be paid, and manned, and fitted out, unless 
we encouraged trade and navigation. He replied, 
with some vehemence, that he would undertake to 
prove trade would be the ruin of the English nation. 
I would fain have put him upon it ; but he contented 
himself with affirming it more eagerly, to which he 
added two or three curses upon the London mer- 
chants, not forgetting the directors of the bank. After 
supper he asked me if I was an admirer of punch ; 



THE FOXHUNTER AT A MASQUERADE. 203 

and immediately called for a sneaker. I took this 
occasion to insinuate the advantages of trade, by 
observing to him, that water was the only native of 
England that could be made use of on this occasion : 
but that the lemons, the brandy, the sugar, and the 
nutmeg, were all foreigners. This put him into some 
confusion; but the landlord, who overheard me, 
brought him off, by affirming, that for constant use, 
there was no liquor like a cup of Enghsh water, pro- 
vided it had malt enough in it. My squire laughed 
heartily at the conceit, and made the landlord sit 
down with us. We sat pretty late over our punch ; 
and, amidst a great deal of improving discourse, drank 
the healths of several persons in the country, whom 
I had never heard of, that, they both assured me, 
were the ablest statesmen in the nation ; and of some 
Londoners, whom they extolled to the skies for their 
wit, and who, I knew, passed in town for silly fellows. 
It being now midnight, and my friend perceiving by 
his almanack that the moon was up, he called for his 
horses, and took a sudden resolution to go to his 
house, which was at three miles' distance from the 
town, after having bethought himself that he never 
slept well out of his own bed. He shook me very 
heartily by the hand at parting, and discovered a 
great air of satisfaction in his looks, that he had met 
with an opportunity of showing his parts, and left me 
a much wiser man than he found me. 



THE FOXHUNTER AT A MASQUERADE. 

As I was last Friday taking a walk in the park, I 
saw a country gentleman at the side of Rosamond's 
pond, pulling a handful of oats out of his pocket, and 



204 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 

with a great deal of pleasure, gathering the ducks 
about him. Upon my coming up to him, who should 
it be but my friend the foxhunter, whom I gave 
some account of in my former paper ! I immediately 
joined him, and partook of his diversion, till he had 
not an oat left in his pocket. We then made the tour 
of the park together, when, after having entertained 
me with the description of a decoy-pond that lay near 
his seat in the country, and of a meeting-house that 
was going to be rebuilt in a neighbouring market-town, 
he gave me an account of some very odd adventures 
which he had met with that morning ; and which I 
shall lay together in a short and faithful history, as 
well as my memory will give me leave. 

My friend, who has a natural aversion to London, 
would never have come up, had not he been sub- 
poenaed to it, as he told me, in order to give his 
testimony for one of the rebels, whom he knew to be 
a very fair sportsman. Having travelled, all night to 
avoid the inconveniences of dust and heat, he arrived 
with his guide, a little after break of day, at Charing- 
cross ; where, to his great surprise, he saw a running 
footman carried in a chair, followed by a waterman in 
the same kind of vehicle. He was wondering at the 
extravagance of their masters, that furnished them 
with such dresses and accommodations, when, on a sud- 
den, he beheld a chimney-sweeper conveyed after 
the same manner, with three footmen running before 
him. During his progress through the Strand, he met 
with several other figures no less wonderful and sur- 
prising. Seeing a great many in rich morning-gowns, 
he was amazed to find that persons of quality were up 
so early ; and was no less astonished to see many 
lawyers in their bar-gowns, when he knew by his 
almanack the term was ended. As he was extremely 



THE FOXHUNTER AT A MASQUERADE. 205 

puzzled and confounded in himself what all this should 
mean, a hackney-coach chancing to pass by him, four 
batts popped out their heads all at once, which very 
rxiuch frighted both him and his horse. My friend, 
who always takes care to cure his horse of such start- 
ing fits, spurred him up to the very side of the coach, to 
the no small diversion of the batts ; who, seeing him 
with his long whip, horse-hair periwig, jockey belt, 
and coat without sleeves, fancied him to be one of the 
masqueraders on horseback, and received him with a 
loud peal of laughter. His mind being full of idle 
stories, which are spread up and down the nation by 
the disaffected, he immediately concluded that all the 
persons he saw in these strange habits were foreigners, 
and conceived a great indignation against them, for 
pretending to laugh at an English country-gentleman. 
But he soon recovered out of his error, by hearing 
the voices of several of them, and particularly of a 
shepherdess quarrelhng with her coachman, and 
threatening to break his bones, in very intelligible 
English, though with a masculine tone. His astonish- 
ment still increased upon him, to see a continued 
procession of harlequins, scaramoucnes, punchinellos, 
and a thousand other merry dresses, by which 
people of quality distinguish their wit from that of 
the vulgar. 

Being now advanced as far as Somerset House, and 
observing it to be the great hive whence these chimeras 
issued forth from time to time, my friend took his 
station among a cluster of mob, who were making 
themselves merry with their betters. The first that 
came out was a very venerable matron, with a nose 
and chin that were within a very little of touching one 
another. My friend, at the first view fancying her to 
be an old woman of quality, out of his good breeding 



206 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 

put off his hat to her, when the person, pulling off her 
mask, to his great surprise, appeared a smock-faced 
young fellow. His attention was soon taken off from 
this object, and turned to another that had very hollow 
eyes and a wrinkled face, which flourished in all the 
bloom of fifteen. The whiteness of the lily was 
blended in it with the blush of the rose. He mistook 
it for a very whimsical kind of mask; but, upon a 
nearer view, he found that she held her vizard in her 
hand, and that what he saw was only her natural 
countenance, touched up with the usual improvements 
of an aged coquette. 

The next who showed herself was a female quaker, 
so very pretty, that he could not forbear licking his hps, 
and saying to the mob about him, * It is ten thousand 
pities she is not a church-woman.' The quaker was 
followed by half a dozen nuns, who filed off one after 
another up Catherine Street, to their respective con- 
vents in Drury Lane. 

The squire, observing the preciseness of their dress, 
began now to imagine, after all, that this was a nest 
of sectaries ; for he had often heard that the town was 
full of them. He was confirmed in this opinion upon 
seeing a conjurer, whom he guessed to be the holder- 
forth. However, to satisfy himself, he asked a porter, 
who stood next him, what religion these people were 
of ? The porter rephed, * They are of no religion ; it 
is a masquerade.' 'Upon that, (says my friend,) I 
began to smoke that they were a parcel of mummers ; ' 
and being himself one of the quorum in his own county, 
could not but wonder that none of the Middlesex 
justices took care to lay some of them by the heels. 
He was the more provoked in the spirit of magistracy, 
upon discovering two very unseemly objects : the first 
was a judge, who rapped out a great oath at his foot- 



CONVERSION OF THE FOXHUNTER. 207 

man ; and the other a big-beUied woman, who, upon 
taking a leap into the coach, miscarried of a cushion. 
What still gave him greater offence, was a drunken 
bishop, who reeled from one side of the court to the 
other, and was very sweet upon an Indian queen. But 
his worship, in the midst of his austerity, was mollified 
at the sight of a very lovely milk-maid, whom he began 
to regard with an eye of mercy, and conceived a par- 
ticular affection for her, until he found, to his great 
amazement, that the stand ers-by suspected her to be a 
duchess. 

I must not conclude this narrative, without mention- 
ing one disaster which happened to my friend on this 
occasion. Having for his better convenience dis- 
mounted, and mixed among the crowd, he found, upon 
his arrival at the inn, that he had lost his purse and 
his almanack. And though it is no wonder such a 
trick should be played him by some of the curious 
spectators, he cannot beat it out of his head, but that 
it was a cardinal who picked his pocket, and that this 
cardinal was a Presbyterian in disguise. 



CONVERSION OF THE FOXHUNTER. 

I QUESTION not but most of my readers will be very 
well pleased to hear, that my friend the foxhunter, of 
whose arrival in town I gave notice in my last paper, 
is become a convert to the present estabhshment, and 
a good subject to King George. The motives to his 
conversion shall be the subject of this paper, as they 
may be of use to other persons who labour under those 
prejudices and prepossessions, which hung so long 
upon the mind of my worthy friend. These I had an 
opportunity of learning the other day, when, at his 



208 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 

request, we took a ramble together, to see the curi- 
osities of this great town. 

The first circumstance, as he ingenuously confessed 
to me, (while we were in the coach together,) which 
helped to disabuse him, was seeing King Charles I. 
on horseback, at Charing Cross ; for he was sure that 
prince could never have kept his seat there, had the 
stories been true he had heard in the country, that 
forty-one was come about again. 

He owned to me that he looked with horror on the 
new church that is half built in the Strand, as taking 
it, at first sight, to be half demolished : but upon 
inquiring of the workmen, was agreeably surprised to 
find, that instead of pulling it down, they were build- 
ing it up ; and that fifty more were raising in other 
parts of the town. 

To these I must add a third circumstance, which I 
find had no small share in my friend's conversion. 
Since his coming to town, he chanced to look into the 
church of St. Paul, about the middle of sermon-time, 
where, having first examined the dome, to see if it 
stood safe, (for the screw-plot still ran in his head,) 
he observed, that the lord mayor, aldermen; and city 
sword, were a part of the congregation. This sight 
had the more weight with him, as, by good* luck, 
not above two of that venerable body were fallen 
asleep. 

This discourse held us till we came to the Tower ; 
for our first visit was to the lions. My friend, who 
had a great deal of talk with their keeper, inquired 
very much after their health, and whether none of 
them had fallen sick upon the taking of Perth, and 
the flight of the Pretender? and hearing they were 
never better in their lives, I found he was extremely 
startled : for he had learned from his cradle, that the 



CONVERSION OF THE FOXHUNTER. 209 

lions in the Tower were the best judges of the title 
of our British kings, and always sympathized with our 
sovereigns. 

After having here satiated our curiosity, we repaired 
to the Monument, where my fellow-traveller, being a 
well-breathed man, mounted the ascent with much 
speed and activity. I was forced to halt so often in 
this perpendicular march, that, upon my joining him 
on the top of the pillar, I found he had counted all 
the steeples and towers which were discernible from 
this advantageous situation, and was endeavouring to 
compute the number of acres they stood upon. We 
were both of us very well pleased with this part of 
Jthe prospect ; but I found he cast an evil eye upon 
several warehouses, and other buildings, that looked 
Hke barns, and seemed capable of receiving great 
multitudes of people. His heart misgave him that 
these were so many meeting-houses, but, upon com- 
municating his suspicions to me, I soon made him 
easy in this particular. 

We then turned our eyes upon the river, which 
gave me an occasion to inspire him with some favour- 
able thoughts of trade and merchandise, that had 
filled the Thames with such crowds of ships, and 
covered the shore with such swarms of people. 

We descended very leisurely, my friend being careful 
to coun'- the steps, which he registered in a blank leaf 
of his new almanack. Upon our coming to the bottom, 
observing an English inscription upon the basis, he 
read it over several times, and told me he could scarce 
believe his own eyes, for that he had often heard from 
an old attorney, who lived near him in the country, 
that it was the Presbyterians who burned down the 
city ; whereas, says he, this pillar positively affirms 
in so many words, that ' the burning of this ancient 



210 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 

city was begun and carried on by the treachery and 
malice of the Popish faction, in order to the carrying 
on their horrid plot for extirpating the Protestant 
religion and old English liberty, and introducing 
Popery and slavery.' This account, which he 
looked upon to be more authentic than if it had 
been in print, I found, made a very great impression 
upon him. 

We now took coach again, and made the best of 
our way for the Royal Exchange, though I found he 
did not much care to venture himself into the throng 
of that place ; for he told me he had heard they were, 
generally speaking, repubhcans, and was afraid of 
having his pocket picked amongst them. But he sooij 
conceived a better opinion of them, when he spied the 
statue of King Charles II. standing up in the middle 
of the crowd, and most of the kings in Baker's 
Chronicle ranged in order over their heads ; from 
whence he very justly concluded, that an antimo- 
narchical assembly could never choose such a place to 
meet in once a day. 

To continue this good disposition in my friend, after 
a short stay at Stocks Market, we drove away directly 
for the Mews, where he was not a little edified with 
the sight of those fine sets of horses which have been 
brought over from Hanover, and with the care that 
is taken of them. He made many good remarks 
upon this occasion, and was so pleased with his 
company, that I had much ado to get him out of 
the stable. 

In our progress to St. James's Park (for that was 
the end of our journey) he took notice, with great satis- 
faction, that, contrary to his intelligence in the country, 
the shops were all open and full of business ; that 
the soldiers walked civilly in the streets ; that clergy- 



CONVERSION OF THE FOXHUNTER. 211 

men, instead of being affronted, had generally the wall 
given them ; and that he had heard the bells ring to 
prayers from morning to night in some part of the 
town or another. 

As he was full of these honest reflections, it hap- 
pened very luckily for us, that one of the king's 
coaches passed by with the three young princesses in 
it, whom by an accidental stop we had an opportunity 
of surveying for some time ; my friend was ravished 
with the beauty, innocence, and sweetness that ap- 
peared in all their faces. He declared several times, 
that they were the finest children he had ever seen in 
all his life ; and assured me that, before this sight, if 
any one had told him it had been possible for three 
such pretty children to have been born out of England, 
he should never have believed them. 

We were now walking together in the Park, and as 
it is usual for men who are naturally warm and heady, 
to be transported with the greatest flush of good 
nature when they are once sweetened ; he owned to 
me very frankly, he had been much imposed upon by 
those false accounts of things he had heard in the 
country ; and that he would make it his business, 
upon his return thither, to set his neighbours right, 
and give them a more just notion of the present state 
of affairs. 

What confirmed my friend in this excellent temper 
of mind, and gave him an inexpressible satisfaction, 
was a message he received, as we were walking 
together, from the prisoner for whom he had given his 
testimony in his late trial. This person having been 
condemned for his part in the late rebellion, sent 
him word that his Majesty had been graciously 
pleased to reprieve him, with several of his friends, 
in order, as it was thought, to give them their lives ; 



212 COUNTRY HUMOURS, 

and that he hoped before he went out of town they 
should have a cheerful meeting, and drink health and 
prosperity to King George. 



COUNTRY MANNERS. 

The first and most obvious reflexions which arise in 
a man who changes the city for the country, are upon 
the different manners of the people whom he meets 
with in those two different scenes of life. By manners 
I do not mean morals, but behaviour and good-breed- 
ing, as they shew themselves in the town and in the 
country. 

And here, in the first place, I must observe a very 
great revolution that has happened in this article of 
good-breeding. Several obliging deferences, conde 
scensions, and submissions, with many outward forms 
and ceremonies that accompany them, were first of 
all brought up among the politer part of mankind, who 
Hved in courts and cities, and distinguished themselves 
from the rustic part of the species (who on all occa- 
sions acted bluntly and naturally) by such a mutual 
complaisance and intercourse of civilities. These 
forms of conversation by degrees multiplied, and grew 
troublesome ; the modish world found too great a 
constraint in them, and have therefore thrown most of 
them aside. Conversation, like the Romish religion, 
was so encumbered with show and ceremony, that it 
stood in need of a reformation to retrench its super- 
fluities, and restore its natural good sense and beauty. 
At present, therefore, an unconstrained carriage, and 
a certain openness of behaviour, are the height of 
good-breeding. The fashionable world is grown free 
and easy ; our manners sit more loose upon us ; 



COUNTRY MANNERS. 213 

nothing is so modish as an agreeable neghgence. In 
a word, good-breeding shows itself most, where to an 
ordinary eye it appears the least. 

If after this we look on the people of mode in the 
country, we find in them the manners of the last age. 
They have no sooner fetched themselves up to the 
fashion of a polite world, but the town has dropped 
them, and are nearer to the first stage of nature, than 
to those refinements which formerly reigned in the 
court, and still prevail in the country. One may now 
know a man that never conversed in the world by his 
excess of good-breeding. A polite country squire shall 
make you as many bows in half an hour, as would 
serve a courtier for a week. There is infinitely more 
to do about place and precedency in a meeting of 
justices' wives, than in an assembly of duchesses. 

This rural politeness is very troublesome to a man 
of my temper, who generally takes the chair that is 
next me, and walks first or last, in the front or in the 
rear, as chance directs. I have known my friend Sir 
Roger's dinner almost cold before the company could 
adjust the ceremonial, and be prevailed upon to sit 
down ; and have heartily pitied my old friend, when 
I have seen him forced to pick and cull his guests, as 
they sat at the several parts of his table, that he might 
drink their healths according to their respective ranks 
and qualities. Honest Will. Wimble, who I should 
have thought had been altogether uninfected with 
ceremony, gives me abundance of trouble in this par- 
ticular. Though he has been fishing all the morning, 
he will not help himself at dinner till I am served. 
When we are going out of the hall, he runs behind 
me ; and last night, as we were walking in the fields, 
stopped short at a stile till I came up to it, and upon 
m} making signs to him to get over, told me, with a 



214 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 

serious smile, that sure I believed they had no man- 
ners in the country. 

There has happened another revolution in the point 
of good-breeding, which relates to the conversation 
among men of mode, and which I cannot but look 
upon as very extraordinary. It was certainly one of 
the first distinctions of a weU-bred man, to express 
everything that had the most remote appearance of 
being obscene in modest terms and distant phrases ; 
whilst the clown, who had no such delicacy of concep- 
tion and expression, clothed his ideas in those plain 
homely terms that are the most obvious and natural. 
This kind of good manners was perhaps carried to an 
excess, so as to make conversation too stiff, formal, and 
precise ; for which reason (as hypocrisy in one age is 
generally succeeded by atheism in another) conversa- 
tion is in a great measure relapsed into the first 
extreme ; so that at present several of our men of the 
town, and particularly those who have been polished 
in France, make use of the most coarse, uncivilized 
words in our language, and utter themselves often in 
such a manner as a clown would blush to hear. 

This infamous piece of good-breeding, which reigns 
among the coxcombs of the town, has not yet made 
its way into the country ; and as it is impossible for 
such an irrational way of conversation to last long 
among a people that makes any profession of religion, 
or show of modesty, if the country gentlemen get into 
it, they will certainly be left in the lurch. Their good- 
breeding will come too late to them, and they will be 
thought a parcel of lewd clowns, while they fancy 
themselves talking together like men of wit and 
pleasure. 

As the two points of good-breeding, which I have 
hitherto insisted upon, regard behaviour and com er- 



COUNTRY FASHIONS. 21$ 

sation, there is a third which turns upon dress. In 
this too the country are very much behindhand. The 
rural beaus are not yet got out of the fashion that took 
place at the time of the Revolution, but ride about 
the country in red coats and laced hats ; while the 
women in many parts are still trying to outvie one 
another in the height of their head-dresses. 

But a friend of mine, who is now upon the western 
circuit, having promised to give me an account of the 
several modes and fashions that prevail in the different 
parts of the nation through which he passes, I shall 
defer the enlarging upon this last topic till I have 
received a letter from him, which I expect every post. 



COUNTRY FASHIONS. 

Great masters in painting never care for drawing 
people in the fashion ; as very well knowing that the 
head-dress, or periwig, that now prevails, and gives a 
grace to their portraitures at present, will make a very 
odd figure, and perhaps look monstrous in the eyes of 
posterity. For this reason they often represent an 
illustrious person in a Roman habit, or in some other 
dress that never varies. I could wish, for the sake of 
my country friends, that there was such a kind of 
everlasting drapery to be made use of by all who live 
at a certain distance from the town, and that they 
would agree upon such fashions as should never be 
liable to changes and innovations. For want of this 
standing dress, a man who takes a journey into the 
country, is as much surprised as one who walks in a 
gallery of old family pictures ; and finds as great a 
variety of garbs and habits in the persons he converses 
with. Did they keep to one constant dress, they 



2l6 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 

would sometimes be in the fashion, which they never 
are as matters are managed at present. If instead of 
running after the mode, they would continue fixed in 
one certain habit, the mode would some time or other 
overtake them, as a clock that stands still is sure to 
point right once in twelve hours : in this case, there- 
fore, I would advise them, as a gentleman did his 
friend who was hunting about the whole town after 
a rambling fellow : If you follow him, you will never 
find him ; but if you plant yourself at the corner of any 
one street, I '11 engage it will not be long before you 
see him. 

I have already touched upon this subject, in a 
speculation which shows how cruelly the country are 
led astray in following the town ; and equipped in a 
ridiculous habit, when they fancy themselves in the 
height of the mode. Since that speculation, I have 
received a letter (which I there hinted at) from a 
gentleman who is now in the western circuit. 

Mr. Spectator, 

Being a lawyer of the Middle Temple, a Cornish 
man by birth, I generally ride the western circuit for my 
health, and as I am not interrupted by clients, have leisure 
to make many observations that escape the notice of my 
fellow-travellers. 

One of the most fashionable women I met with in all 
the circuit, was my landlady at Staines, where I chanced 
to be on a holiday. Her commode was not half a foot 
high, and her petticoat within some yards of a modish cir- 
cumference. In the same place I observed a young fellow 
with a tolerable periwig, had it not been covered with a 
hat that was shaped in the Ramillie cock. As I pro- 
ceeded on my journey, I observed the petticoat grew 
scantier and scantier, and about three-score miles from 
London was so very unfashionable, that a woman might 
walk in it without any manner of inconvenience. 



I 



COUNTRY FASHIONS. 21/ 

Not far from Salisbury I took notice of a justice of 
peace's lady, who was at least ten years behind-hand in 
her dress, but at the same time as fine as hands could 
make her. She was flounced and furbelowed from head 
to foot ; every ribbon was wrinkled, and every part of her 
garments in curl, so that she looked like one of those 
animals which in the country we call a Friezeland hen. 

Not many miles beyond this place I was informed, that 
one of the last year's little muffs had by some means or 
other straggled into those parts, and that all the women of 
fashion were cutting their old muffs in two, or retrenching 
them according to the little model which was got among 
them. I cannot believe the report they have there, that it 
was sent down franked by a parliament-man in a little 
packet ; but probably by next winter this fashion will be 
at the height in the country, when it is quite out at London. 

The greatest beau at our next county-sessions was 
dressed in a most monstrous flaxen periwig, that was made 
in king William's reign. The wearer of it goes, it seems, 
in his own hair, when he is at home, and lets his wig lie in 
buckle for a whole half-year, that he may put it on upon 
occasion to meet the judges in it. 

I must not here omit an adventure which happened to 
us in a country church upon the frontiers of Cornwall. As 
we were in the midst of the service, a lady who is the chief 
woman of the place, and had passed the winter at London 
with her husband, entered the congregation in a little 
head-dress, and a hooped petticoat. The people, who 
were wonderfully startled at such a sight, all of them rose 
up. Some stared at the prodigious bottom, and some at 
the little top of this strange dress. In the mean time 
the lady of the manor filled the area of the church, and 
walked up to her pew with an unspeakable satisfaction, 
amidst the whispers, conjectures, and astonishments of 
the whole congregation. 

Upon my way from hence we saw a young fellow rid- 
ing towards us full gallop, with a bob-wig and a black 
silken bag tied to it. He stopt short at the coach, to ask 
us how far the judges were behind us. His stay was so 
very short, that we had only time to observe his new silk 



2l8 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 

waistcoat, which was unbuttoned in several places to let 
us see that he had a clean shirt on, which was ruffled down 
to his middle. 

From this place, during our progress through the most 
western parts of the kingdom, we fancied ourselves in king 
Charles the second's reign, the people having made very 
little variations in their dress since that time. The smart- 
est of the country squires appear still in the Monmouth 
cock, and when they go a wooing (whether they have any 
post in the militia or not) they generally put on a red coat. 
We were, indeed, very much surprised at the place we lay 
at last night, to meet with a gentleman that had accoutered 
himself in a night-cap wig, a coat with long pockets and 
slit sleeves, and a pair of shoes with high scollop tops ; but 
we soon found by his conversation that he was a person 
who laughed at the ignorance and rusticity of the country 
people, and was resolved to live and die in the mode. 

Sir, if you think this account of my travels may be of 
any advantage to the public, I will next year trouble you 
with such occurrences as I shall meet with in other parts 
of England. For I am informed there are greater curi- 
osities in the northern circuit than in the western ; and 
that a fashion makes its progress much slower into Cumber- 
land than into Cornwall. I have heard in particular, that 
the Steenkirk arrived but two months ago at Newcastle,^ 
and that there are several commodes in those parts which 
are worth taking a journey thither to see. — C. 



COUNTRY ETIQUETTE. 

When I came home last night, my servant delivered 
me the following letter : 

Sir, Oct. 24. 

I have orders from Sir Harry Quickset, of Stafford- 
shire, Bart., to acquaint you, that his honour Sir Harry 
himself, Sir Giles Wheelbarrow, Knt., Thomas Rentfree, 



COUNTRY ETIQUETTE. 219 

Esq., justice of the quorum^ Andrew Windmill, Esq., and 
Mr. Nicholas Doubt of the Inner Temple, Sir Harry's grand- 
son, will wait upon you at the hour of nine to-morrow 
morning, being Tuesday the 25th of October, upon busi- 
ness which Sir Harry will impart to you by word of mouth. 
I thought it proper to acquaint you before-hand so many 
persons of quality came, that you might not be surprised 
therewith. Which concludes, though by many years' 
absence since I saw you at Stafford, unknown, 
Sir, your most humble servant, 

John Thrifty. 

I received this message with less surprise than I 
believe Mr. Thrifty imagined ; for I knew the good 
company too well to feel any palpitations at their 
approach : but I was in very great concern how I 
should adjust the ceremonial, and demean myself to 
all these great men, who perhaps had not seen any- 
thing above themselves for these twenty years last 
past. I am sure that is the case of Sir Harry. Be- 
sides which, I was sensible that there was a great 
point in adjusting my behaviour to the simple squire, 
so as to give him satisfaction, and not disobhge the 
justice of the quorum. 

The hour of nine was come this morning, and I had 
no sooner set chairs (by the stewards' letter) and 
fixed my tea equipage, but I heard a knock at my 
door, which was opened, but no one entered ; after 
which followed a long silence, which was broke at 
last by, ' Sir, I beg your pardon ; I think I know 
better : ' and another voice, ' Nay, good Sir Giles — ' 
I looked out from my window, and saw the good 
company all with their hats off, and arms spread, offer- 
ing the door to each other. After many offers, they 
entered with much solemnity, in the order Mr. Thrifty 
was so kind as to name them to me. But they are 



220 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 

now got to my chamber door, and I saw my old friend 
Sir Harry enter. I met him with all the respect due 
to so reverend a vegetable ; for you are to know, that 
is my sense of a person who remains idle in the same 
place for half a century. I got him with great success 
into his chair by the fire, without throwing down any 
of my cups. The knight-bachelor told me, he had a 
great respect for my whole family, and would, with my 
leave, place himself next to Sir Harry, at whose right 
hand he had sat at every quarter-sessions this thirty 
years, unless he was sick. The steward in the rear 
whispered the young Templar, ' That is true to my 
knowledge.' I had the misfortune, as they stood 
cheek by jole, to desire the squire to sit down before 
the justice of the quorum, to the no small satisfaction 
of the former, and resentment of the latter : but I saw 
my error too late, and got them as soon as I could 
into their seats. 'Well, (said I,) gentlemen, after 
I have told you how glad I am of this great honour, 
I am to desire you to drink a dish of tea.'' They 
answered, one and all, that ' They never drank 
tea in a morning.' ' Not in a morning ! ' said I, 
staring round me. Upon which the pert jacka- 
napes Nick Doubt tipped me the wink, and put out 
his tongue at his grandfather. Here followed a pro- 
found silence, when the steward in his boots and whip 
proposed that we should adjourn to some public-house, 
where everybody might call for what they pleased, and 
enter upon the business. We all stood up in an 
instant, and Sir Harry filed off from the left very dis- 
creetly, counter-marching behind the chairs towards 
the door : after him. Sir Giles in the same manner. 
The simple squire made a sudden start to follow ; but 
the justice of the quorum whipped between upon the 
stand of the stairs. A maid going up with coals made 



COUNTRY ETIQUETTE. 221 

US halt, and put us into such confusion, that we stood 
all in a heap, without any visible possibility of recover- 
ing our order : for the young jackanapes seemed to 
make a jest of this matter, and had so contrived, by 
pressing amongst us under pretence of making way, 
that his grandfather was got into the middle, and 
he knew nobody was of quality to stir a step, till Sir 
Harry moved first. We were fixed in this perplexity 
for some time, till we heard a very loud noise in the 
street ; and Sir Harry asking what it was, I, to make 
them move, said it was fire. Upon this, all run down 
as fast as they could, without order or ceremony, till 
we got into the street, where we drew up in very good 
order, and filed off down Sheer Lane, the impertinent 
Templar driving us before him, as in a string, and 
pointing to his acquaintance who passed by. 

I must confess, I love to use people according to 
their own sense of good breeding, and therefore 
whipped in between the justice and the simple squire. 
He could not properly take this ill ; but I overheard 
him whisper the steward, ' That he thought it hard 
that a common conjurer should take place of him, 
though an elder squire.' In this order we marched 
down Sheer Lane, at the upper end of which I lodge. 
When we came to Temple Bar, Sir Harry and Sir 
Giles got over ; but a run of coaches kept the rest of 
us on this side the street : however, we all at last 
landed, and drew up in very good order before Ben. 
Tooke's shop, who favoured our rallying with great 
humanity. From hence we proceeded again, till we 
came to Dick's Coffee-house, where I designed to 
carry them. Here we were at our old difficulty, and 
took up the street upon the same ceremony. We 
proceeded through the entry, and were so necessarily 
kept in order by the situation, that we were now got 



222 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 

into the coffee-house itself, where, as soon as we 
arrived, we repeated our civiUties to each other ; after 
which, we marched up to the high table, which has an 
ascent to it enclosed in the middle of the room. The 
whole house was alarmed at this entry, made up of 
persons of so much state and rusticity. Sir Harry 
called for a mug of ale, and Dyer's Letter. The boy 
brought the ale in an instant : but said, they did not 
take in the Letter. ' No ! (says Sir Harry,) then take 
back your mug ; we are like indeed to have good 
liquor at this house.' Here the Templar tipped me a 
second wink, and if I had not looked very grave upon 
him, I found he was disposed to be very familiar with 
me. In short, I observed after a long pause, that the 
gentlemen did not care to enter upon business till 
after their morning draught, for which reason I called 
for a bottle of mum ; and finding that had no effect 
upon them, I ordered a second, and a third : after 
which, Sir Harry reached over to me, and told me in 
a low voice, that the place was too public for business ; 
but he would call upon me again to-morrow morning 
at my own lodgings, and bring some more friends with 
him. 



THE GRINNING MATCH. 

In a late paper I mentioned the project of an in- 
genious author for the erecting of several handicraft 
prizes to be contended for by our British artisans, and 
the influence they might have towards the improve- 
ment of our several manufactures. I have since that 
been very much surprised by the following advertise- 
ment which I find in the Post-Boy of the nth instant, 
and again repeated in the Post-Boy of the 15th. 



THE GRINNING MATCH. 223 

On the 9th of October next will be run for upon Coles- 
hill Heath, in Warwickshire, a plate of six guineas value, 
three heats, by any horse, mare, or gelding, that hath not 
won above the value of 5/., the winning horse to be sold 
for 10/., to carry ten stone weight, if fourteen hands high ; 
if above or under, to carry or be allowed weight for inches, 
and to be entered Friday the 15th at the Swan in Coles- 
hill, before six in the evening. Also a plate of less value 
to be run for by asses. The same day a gold ring to be 
grinned for by men. 

The first of these diversions, that is to be exhibited by 
the 10/. race-horses, may probably have its use ; but the 
two last, in which the asses and men are concerned, 
seem to me altogether extraordinary and unaccountable. 
Why they should keep running asses at Coleshill, or how 
making mouths turns to account in Warwickshire, more 
than in any other parts of England, I cannot compre- 
hend. I have looked over all the Olympic games, and do 
not find anything in them like an ass-race, or a match at 
grinning. However it be, I am informed, that several 
asses are now kept in body-clothes, and sweated every 
morning upon the heath ; and that all the country-fel- 
lows within ten miles of the Swan grin an hour or two 
in their glasses every morning, in order to qualify them- 
selves for the 9th of October. The prize which is pro- 
posed to be grinned for, has raised such an ambition 
among the common people of out-grinning one another, 
that many very discerning persons are afraid it should 
spoil most of the faces in the country ; and that a War- 
wickshire man will be known by his grin, as Roman 
Catholics imagine a Kentish man is by his tail. The 
gold ring which is made the prize of deformity, is just the 
reverse of the golden apple that was formerly made the 
prize of beauty, and should carry for its posie the old 

motto inverted, 

Detur tetriori. 



224 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 

Or, to accommodate it to the capacity of the com- 
batants, 

The frightfull'st grinner 

Be the winner. 

In the mean while 1 would advise a Dutch painter 
to be present at this great controversy of faces, in 
order to make a collection of the most remarkable 
grins that shall be there exhibited. 

I must not here omit an account which I lately 
received of one of these grinning matches from a gen- 
tleman, who, upon reading the above-mentioned adver- 
tisement, entertained a coffee-house with the following 
narrative. Upon the taking of Namur, among other 
public rejoicings made on that occasion, there was a 
gold ring given by a Whig justice of the peace to be 
grinned for. The first competitor that entered the 
lists, was a black, swarthy Frenchman, who accidentally 
passed that way, and being a man naturally of a with- 
ered look and hard features, promised himself good 
success. He was placed upon a table in the great 
point of view, and looking upon the company Hke 
Milton's death, 

Grinn'd horribly a ghastly smile. — 

His muscles were so drawn together on each side 
of his face that he showed twenty teeth at a grin, and 
put the country in some pain, lest a foreigner should 
carry away the honour of the day ; but upon a further 
trial they found he was master only of the merry grin. 

The next that mounted the table was a Malecontent 
in those days, and a great master of the whole art of 
grinning, but particularly excelled in the angry grin. 
He did his part so well, that he is said to have made 
half a dozen women miscarry ; but the justice being 



THE GRINNING MATCH. 22$ 

apprized by one who stood near him, that the fellow 
who grinned in his face was a Jacobite, and being un- 
willing that a disaffected person should win the gold 
ring, and be looked upon as the best grinner in the 
country, he ordered the oaths to be tendered unto him 
upon his quitting the table, which the grinner refusing, 
he was set aside as an unquaHfied person. There were 
several other grotesque figures that presented them- 
selves, which it would be too tedious to describe. 
I must not, however, omit a plough-man, who lived in 
the further part of the country, and being very lucky 
in a pair of long lanthorn-jaws, wrung his face into such 
a hideous grimace, that every feature of it appeared 
under a different distortion. The whole company 
stood astonished at such a complicated grin, and were 
ready to assign the prize to him, had it not been proved 
by one of his antagonists that he had practised with 
verjuice for some days before, and had a crab found 
upon him at the very time of grinning ; upon which 
the best judges of grinning declared it as their opin- 
ion, that he was not to be looked upon as a fair 
grinner, and therefore ordered him to be set aside as 
a cheat. 

The prize, it seems, fell at length upon a cobbler, 
Giles Gorgon by name, who produced several new 
grins of his own invention, having been used to cut 
faces for many years together over his last. At the 
very first grin he cast every human feature out of his 
countenance, at the second he became the face of a 
spout, at the third a baboon, at the fourth the head 
of a bass-viol, and at the fifth a pair of nut-crackers. 
The whole assembly wondered at his accomplish- 
ments, and bestowed the ring on him unanimously ; 
but, what he esteemed more than all the rest, a 
country wench whom he had wooed in vain for above 



226 COUNTRY HUMOURS. 

five years before, was so charmed with his grins, and I 
the applauses which he received on all sides, that she 
married him the week following, and to this day wears 
the prize upon her finger, the cobbler having made 
use of it as his wedding-ring. 

This paper might perhaps seem very impertinent, 
if it grew serious in the conclusion. I would never- 
theless leave it to the consideration of those who are 
the patrons of this monstrous trial of skill, whether or 
no they are not guilty, in some measure, of an affront 
to their species, in treating after this manner the 
Human Face Divine, and turning that part of us, 
which has so great an image impressed upon it, into 
the image of a monkey ; whether the raising such silly 
competitions among the ignorant, proposing prizes for 
such useless accomplishments, filling the common peo- 
ple's heads with such senseless ambitions, and inspir- 
ing them with such absurd ideas of superiority and 
pre-eminence, has not in it something immoral as well 
as ridiculous. 



HUMOURS OF FASHION. 



A BEAU'S HEAD. 

I WAS yesterday engaged in an assembly of vir- 
tuosos, where one of them produced many curious 
observations which he had lately made in the anat- 
omy of a human body. Another of the company 
communicated to us several wonderful discoveries, 
which he had also made on the same subject, by the 
help of very fine glasses. This gave birth to a great 
variety of uncommon remarks, and furnished dis- 
course for the remaining part of the day. 

The different opinions which were started on this 
occasion, presented to my imagination so many new 
ideas, that by mixing with those which were already 
there, they employed my fancy all the last night, and 
composed a very wild, extravagant dream. 

I was invited, methought, to the dissection of a 
beau's head and of a coquette's heart, which were 
both of them laid on a table before us. An imagi- 
nary operator opened the first with a great deal of 
nicety, which, upon a cursory and superficial view, 
appeared like the head of another man ; but upon 
applying our glasses to it, we made a very odd dis- 
covery, namely, that what we looked upon as brains, 
were not such in reality, but an heap of strange 
materials wound up in that shape and texture, and 
227 



228 HUMOURS OF FASHION. 

packed together with wonderful art in the several 
cavities of the skull. For, as Homer tells us, that the 
blood of the gods is not real blood, but only some- 
thing like it; so we found that the brain of a beau is 
not a real brain, but only something like it. 

The pineal gland, which many of our modern phi- 
losophers suppose to be the seat of the soul, smelt very 
strong of essence and orange-flower water, and was 
encompassed with a kind of horny substance, cut into 
a thousand little faces or mirrors, which were imper- 
ceptible to the naked eye ; insomuch, that the soul, 
if there had been any here, must have been always 
taken up in contemplating her own beauties. 

We olDserved a large antrum or cavity in the sinci- 
put, that was filled with ribbons, lace, and embroidery, 
wrought together in a most curious piece of network, 
the parts of which were likewise imperceptible to the 
naked eye. Another of these antrums or cavities was 
stuffed with invisible billet-doux, love-letters, pricked 
dances, and other trumpery of the same nature. In 
another we found a kind of powder, which set the 
whole company a sneezing, and by the scent discov- 
ered itself to be right Spanish. The several other 
cells were stored with commodities of the same kind, 
of which it would be tedious to give the reader an 
exact inventory. 

There was a large cavity on each side of. the head 
which I must not omit. That on the right side was 
filled with fictions, flatteries, and falsehoods, vows, 
promises, and protestations ; that on the left with 
oaths and imprecations. There issued out a duct from 
each of these cells, which ran into the root of the 
tongue, where both joined together, and passed for- 
ward in one common duct to the tip of it. We dis- 
covered several little roads or canals running from 



A BEAU S HEAD. 229 

the ear into the brain, and took particular care to 
trace them out through their several passages. One 
of them extended itself to a bundle of sonnets and 
little musical instruments. Others ended in several 
bladders, which were filled with wind or froth. But 
the large canal entered into a great cavity of the 
skull, from whence there went another canal into the 
tongue. This great cavity was filled with a kind of 
spongy substance, which the French anatomists call 
galimatias ; and the English, nonsense. 

The skins of the forehead were extremely tough 
and thick, and what very much surprised us, had not 
in them any single blood-vessel that we were able to 
discover either with or without our glasses ; from 
whence we concluded, that the party, when alive, 
must have been entirely deprived of the faculty of 
blushing. 

The OS cribriforme was exceedingly stuffed, and in 
some places damaged with snuff. We could not but 
take notice in particular of that small muscle, which 
is not often discovered in dissections, and draws the 
nose upwards, when it expresses the contempt which 
the owner of it has, upon seeing anything he does 
not like, or hearing anything he does not understand. 
I need not tell my learned reader, that this is that 
muscle which performs the motion so often mentioned 
by the Latin poets, when they talk of a man's cock- 
ing his nose, or playing the rhinoceros. 

We did not find anything very remarkable in the 
eye, saving only that the viusculi aiJiatorii^ or, as we 
may translate it into English, the ogling muscles, were 
very much worn and decayed with use ; whereas, on 
the contrary, the elevator, or the muscle which turns 
the eye towards heaven, did not appear to have been 
used at all. 



230 HUMOURS OF FASHION. 

I have only mentioned in this dissection such new 
discoveries as we were able to make, and have not 
taken any notice of those parts which are to be met 
with in common heads. As for the skull, the face, and 
indeed the whole outward shape and figure of the 
head, we could not discover any difference from what 
we observe in the heads of other men. We were in- 
formed, that the person to whom this head belonged, 
had passed for a man above five-and-thirty years ; 
during which time he eat and drank like other people, 
dressed well, talked loud, laughed frequently, and on 
particular occasions had acquitted himself tolerably 
at a ball or an assembly ; to which one of the com- 
pany added, that a certain knot of ladies took him for 
a wit. He was cut off in the flower of his age by the 
blow of a paring-shovel, having been surprised by an 
eminent citizen as he was tendering some civilities to 
his wife. 

When we had thoroughly examined this head with 
all its apartments, and its several kinds of furniture, 
we put up the brain, such as it was, into its proper 
place, and laid it aside under a broad piece of scarlet 
cloth, in order to be prepared, and kept in a great 
repository of dissections ; our operator telling us, that 
the preparation would not be so difficult as that of 
another brain, for that he had observed several of the 
little pipes and tubes which ran through the brain were 
already filled with a kind of mercurial substance, which 
he looked upon to be true quicksilver. 

He applied himself in the next place to the coquette's 
heart, which he likewise laid open with great dexterity. 
There occurred to us many particularities in this dis- 
section ; but being unwilling to burden my reader's 
memory too much, I shall reserve this subject for the. 
speculation of another day. 



A COQUETTE S HEART. 23I 



A COQUETTE'S HEART. 

Having already given an account of the dissection 
of a beau's head, with the several discoveries made on 
that occasion, I shall here, according to my promise, 
enter upon the dissection of a coquette's heart, and 
communicate to the public such particularities as we 
observed in that curious piece of anatomy. 

I should, perhaps, have waived this undertaking, 
had not I been put in mind of my promise by several 
of my unknown correspondents, who are very impor- 
tunate with me to make an example of the coquette, 
as I have already done of the beau. It is, therefore, 
in compliance with the request of friends, that I have 
looked over the minutes of my former dream, in order 
to give the public an exact relation of it, which I shall 
enter upon without further preface. 

Our operator, before he engaged in this visionary 
dissection, told us, that there was nothing in his art 
more difficult, than to lay open the heart of a coquette, 
by reason of the many labyrinths and recesses which 
are to be found in it, and which do not appear in the 
heart of any other animal. 

He desired us first of all to observe the pericardium^ 
or outward case of the heart, which we did very atten- 
tively ; and, by the help of our glasses, discerned in 
it millions of little scars, which seemed to have been 
occasioned by the points of innumerable darts and 
arrows, that from time to time had glanced upon the 
outward coat ; though he could not discover the 
smallest orifice, by which any of them had entered 
and pierced the inward substance. 

Every smatterer in anatomy knows, that this pericar- 
dium, or case of the heart, contains in it a thin red- 



232 HUMOURS OF FASHION. 

dish liquor, supposed so be bred from the vapours 
which exhale out of the heart, and being stopped here, 
are condensed into this watery substance. Upon ex- 
amining this liquor, we found that it had in it all the 
qualities of that spirit which is made use of in the 
thermometer, to show the change of weather. 

Nor must I here omit an experiment one of the 
company assures us he himself had made with this 
liquor, which he found in great quantity about the 
heart of a coquette whom he had formerly dissected. 
He affirmed to us, that he had actually enclosed it in 
a small tube made after the manner of a weather- 
glass ; but that, instead of acquainting him with the 
variations of the atmosphere, it showed him the 
qualities of those persons who entered the room 
where it stood. He affirmed also, that it rose at the 
approach of a plume of feathers, an embroidered coat, 
or a pair of fringed gloves ; and that it fell as soon as 
an ill-shaped periwig, a clumsy pair of shoes, of an 
unfashionable coat came into his house : nay, he pro- 
ceeded so far as to assure us, that, upon his laughing 
aloud when he stood by it, the liquor mounted very 
sensibly, and immediately sunk again upon his looking 
serious. In short, he told us, that he knew very well 
by this invention whenever he had a man of sense or 
a coxcomb in his room. 

Having cleared away the peficardiifm, or the case 
and liquor above-mentioned, we came to the heart 
itself. The outward surface of it was extremely sHp- 
pery, and the mi/cro, or point, so very cold withal, that 
upon endeavouring to take hold of it, it glided through 
the fingers like a smooth piece of ice. 

The fibres were turned and twisted in a more in- 
tricate and perplexed manner than they are usually 
found in other hearts ; insomuch, that the whole heart 



A COQUETTE S HEART. 233 

was wound up together like a Gordian knot, and must 
have had very irregular and unequal motions, whilst it 
was employed in its vital function. 

One thing we thought very observable, namely, that 
upon examining all the vessels which came into it, or 
issued out of it, we could not discover any communi- 
cation that it had with the tongue. 

We could not but take notice likewise, that several 
of those little nerves in the heart which are affected 
by the sentiments of love, hatred, and other passions, 
did not descend to this before us from the brain, but 
from the muscles which lie about the eye. 

Upon weighing the heart in my hand, I found it 
to be extremely light, and consequently very hollow, 
which I did not wonder at, when, upon looking into 
the inside of it, I saw multitudes of cells and cavities 
running one within another, as our historians describe 
the apartments of Rosamond's Bower. Several of 
these litde hollows were stuffed with innumerable sorts 
of trifles, which I shall forbear giving any particular 
account of, and shall, therefore, only take notice of 
what lay first and uppermost, which, upon our unfold- 
ing it, and applying our microscope to it, appeared to 
be a flame-coloured hood. 

We were informed that the lady of this heart, when 
living, received the addresses of several who made love 
to her, and did not only give each of them encourage- 
ment, but made every one she conversed with believe 
that she regarded him with an eye of kindness : for 
which reason, we expected to have seen the impression 
of multitudes of faces among the several plaits and 
foldings of the heart ; but, to our great surprise, not 
a single print of this nature discovered itself, till we 
came into the very core and centre of it. We there 
observed a little figure, which, upon applying our 



234 HUMOURS OF FASHION. 

glasses to it, appeared dressed in a very fantastic 
manner. The more I looked upon it, the more I 
thought I had seen the face before, but could not 
possibly recollect either the place or time ; when at 
length one of the company, who had examined this 
figure more nicely than the rest, showed us plainly by 
the make of its face, and the several turns of its 
features, that the little idol which was thus lodged in 
the very middle of the heart, was the deceased beau, 
whose head I gave some account of in my last paper. 

As soon as we had finished our dissection, we re- 
solved to make an experiment of the heart, not being 
able to determine among ourselves the nature of its 
substance, which differed in so many particulars from 
that of the heart in other females. Accordingly we 
laid it into a pan of burning coals, when we observed 
in it a certain salamandrine quality, that made it capa- 
ble of living in the midst of fire and flame, without 
being consumed, or so much as singed. 

As we were admiring this strange phaenomenon, and 
standing round the heart in the circle, it gave a most 
prodigious sigh, or rather crack, and dispersed all at 
once in smoke and vapour. This imaginary noise, 
which methought was louder than the burst of a 
cannon, produced such a violent shake in my brain, 
that it dissipated the fumes of sleep, and left me in 
an instant broad awake. 



THE HOOD. 

One of the fathers, if I am rightly informed, has 
defined a woman to be ^u)ov (fycXoKoafiov, ' xA.n animal 
that delights in finery.' I have already treated of the 



THE HOOD. 235 

sex in two or three papers, conformably to this defini- 
tion, and have in particular observed, that in all ages 
they have been more careful than the men to adorn 
that part of the head, which we generally call the 
outside. 

This observation is so very notorious, that when in 
ordinary discourse we say a man has a fine head, a 
long head, or a good head, we express ourselves meta- 
phorically, and speak in relation to his understanding ; 
whereas, when we say of a woman, she has a fine, a 
long, or a good head, we speak only in relation to her 
commode. 

It is observed among birds, that Nature has lavished 
all her ornaments upon the male, who very often 
appears in a most beautiful head-dress ; whether it be 
a crest, a comb, a tuft of feathers, or a natural little 
plume, erected like a kind of pinnacle on the very top 
of the head. As Nature, on the contrary, has poured 
out her charms in the greatest abundance upon the 
female part of our species, so they are very assiduous 
in bestowing upon themselves the finest garnitures of 
art. The peacock, in all his pride, does not display 
half the colours that appear in the garments of a 
British lady, when she is dressed either for a ball or 
a birth-day. 

But to return to our female heads. The ladies have 
been for some time in a kind of moulting season, with 
regard to that part of their dress, having cast great 
quantities of ribbon, lace, and cambric, and in some 
measure reduced that part of the human figure to the 
beautiful globular form which is natural to it. We 
have for a great while expected what kind of orna- 
ment would be substituted in the place of those 
antiquated commodes. But our female projectors 
were all the last summer so taken up with the im- 



236 HUMOURS OF FASHION. 

provement of their petticoats, that they had not time 
to attend to anything else : but having at length suffi- 
ciently adorned their lower parts, they now begin to 
turn their thoughts upon the other extremity, as well 
remembering the old kitchen proverb, That if you 
light a fire at both ends, the middle will shift for 
itself. 

I am engaged in this speculation by a sight which I 
lately met with at the opera. As I was standing in 
the hinder part of the box, I took notice of a little 
cluster of women sitting together in the prettiest 
coloured hoods that I ever saw. One of them was 
blue, another yellow, and another philomot ; the 
fourth was of a pink colour, and the fifth of a pale 
green. I looked with as much pleasure upon this 
little party-coloured assembly, as upon a bed of tulips, 
and did not know at first whether it might not be an 
embassy of Indian queens ; but upon my going about 
into the pit, and taking them in front, I was imme- 
diately undeceived, and saw so much beauty in every 
face, that I found them all to be English. Such eyes 
and lips, cheeks and foreheads, could be the growth 
of no other country. The complexion of their faces 
hindered me from observing any further the colour of 
their hoods, though I could easily perceive by that 
unspeakable satisfaction which appeared in their looks, 
that their own thoughts were wholly taken up on those 
pretty ornaments they wore upon their heads. 

I am informed that this fashion spreads daily, inso- 
much that the Whig and Tory ladies begin already to 
hang out different colours, and to show their principles 
in their head-dress. Nay, if I may believe my friend 
Will. Honeycomb, there is a certain old coquette of 
his acquaintance, who intends to appear very suddenly 
in a rainbow hood, like the Iris in Dryden's Virgil, not 



THE HOOD. 237 

questioning but that among such a variety of colours 
she shall have a charm for every heart. 

My friend Will., who very much values himself upon 
his great insights into gallantry, tells me, that he can 
already guess at the humour a lady is in by her hood, 
as the courtiers of Morocco know the disposition of 
their present emperor by the colour of the dress which 
he puts on. When Melesinda wraps her head in flame 
colour, her heart is set upon execution. When she 
covers it with purple, I would not, says he, advise her 
lover to approach her ; but if she appears in white, it 
is peace, and he may hand her out of her box with 
safety. 

Will, informs me likewise, that these hoods may be 
used as signals. Why else, says he, does Cornelia 
always put on a black hood when her husband is gone 
into the country? 

Such are my friend Honeycomb's dreams of gal- 
lantry. For my own part, I impute this diversity of 
colours in the hoods to the diversity of complexion in 
the faces of my pretty country-women. Ovid, in his 
Art of Love, has given some precepts as to this par- 
ticular, though I find they are different from those 
which prevail among the moderns. He recommends 
a red striped silk to the pale complexion, white to the 
brown, and dark to the fair. On the contrary, my 
friend Will., who pretends to be a greater master in 
this art than Ovid, tells me, that the palest features 
look the most agreeable in white sarcenet, that a face 
which is over-flushed appears to advantage in the 
deepest scarlet, and that the darkest complexion is 
not a little alleviated by a black hood. In short, he 
is for losing the colour of the face in that of the hood, 
as a fire burns dimly, and a candle goes half out, in 
the light of the sun. This, says he, your Ovid himself 



238 HUMOURS OF FASHION. 

has hinted, where he treats of these matters, when he 
tells us that the Blue Water-nymphs are dressed in 
sky-coloured garments ; and that Aurora, who always 
appears in the light of the rising sun, is robed in 
saffron. 

Whether these his observations are justly grounded 
I cannot tell ; but I have often known him, as we 
have stood together behind the ladies, praise or dis- 
praise the complexion of a face which he never saw, 
from observing the colour of her hood, and has been 
very seldom out in these his guesses. 

As I have nothing more at heart than the honour 
and improvement of the fair sex, I cannot conclude 
this paper without an exhortation to the British ladies, 
that they would excel the women of all other nations 
as much in virtue and good sense, as they do in 
beauty ; which they may certainly do, if they will be 
as industrious to cultivate their minds as they are to 
adorn their bodies : in the mean while I shall recom- 
mend to their most serious consideration the saying 
of an old Greek poet, 

TvvaiKl Kdfffws 6 rpSiros, k ov xP^<^^o., 



THE HEAD-DRESS. 

There is not so variable a thing in nature as a 
lady's head-dress : within my own memory I have 
known it rise and fall above thirty degrees. About 
ten years ago it shot up to a very great height, inso- 
much that the female part of our species were much 
taller than the men. The women were of such an 
enormous stature, that ' we appeared as grasshoppers 



THE HEAD-DRESS. 239 

before them : ' at present the whole sex is in a manner 
dwarfed and shrunk into a race of beauties that seems 
almost another species. I remember several ladies, 
who were once very near seven foot high, that at 
present want some inches of five : how they came to 
be thus curtailed I cannot learn ; whether the whole 
sex be at present under any penance which we know 
nothing of, or whether they have cast their head- 
dresses in order to surprise us with something in that 
kind which shall be entirely new ; or whether some 
of the tallest of the sex, being too cunning for the 
rest, have contrived this method to make themselves 
appear sizeable, is still a secret ; though I find most 
are of opinion, they are at present like trees new 
lopped and pruned, that will certainly sprout up and 
flourish with greater heads than before. For my own 
part, as I do not love to be insulted by women who 
are taller than myself, I admire the sex much more in 
their present humiliation, which has reduced them 
to their natural dimensions, than when they had ex- 
tended their persons, and lengthened themselves out 
into formidable and gigantic figures. I am not for 
adding to the beautiful edifice of nature, nor for rais- 
ing any whimsical superstructure upon her plans : I 
must, therefore, repeat it, that I am highly pleased 
with the coiffure now in fashion, and think it shows the 
good sense which at present very much reigns among 
the valuable part of the sex. One may observe, that 
women in all ages have taken more pains than men to 
adorn the outside of their heads ; and, indeed, I very 
much admire, that those female architects, who raise 
such wonderful structures out of ribbons, lace, and 
wire, have not been recorded for their respective inven- 
tions. It is certain there have been as many orders 
in these kinds of building, as in those which have been 



240 HUMOURS OF FASHION. 

made of marble : sometimes they rise in the shape of 
a pyramid, sometimes like a tower, and sometimes like 
a steeple. In Juvenal's time the building grew by 
several orders and stories, as he has very humorously 
described it. 

Tot premit ordinibus, tot adhuc compagibus altum 
yEditicat caput : Andromachen a fronte videbis ; 
Post minor est : aliam credas. — Juv. 

But I do not remember, in any part of my reading, 
that the head-dress aspired to so great an extrava- 
gance as in the fourteenth century ; when it was built 
up in a couple of cones or spires, which stood so 
excessively high on each side of the head, that a 
woman who was but a Pigmy without her head-dress, 
appeared hke a Colossus upon putting it on. Monsieur 
Paradin says, * That these old-fashioned frontanges 
rose an ell above the head ; that they were pointed 
like steeples, and had long loose pieces of crape 
fastened to the tops of them, which are curiously 
fringed, and hung down their backs Hke streamers.' 

The women might possibly have carried this Gothic 
building much higher, had not a famous monk, Thomas 
Connecte by name, attacked it with great zeal and reso- 
lution. This holy man travelled from place to place to 
preach down this monstrous commode ; and succeeded 
so well in it, that as the magicians sacrificed their books 
to the flames upon the preaching of an apostle, many 
of the women threw down their head-dresses in the 
middle of his sermon, and made a bonfire of them 
within sight of the pulpit. He was so renowned, as well 
for the sanctity of his life as his manner of preaching, 
that he had often a congregation of twenty thousand 
people ; the men placing themselves on the one side 
of his pulpit, and the women on the other, that 



THE HEAD-DRESS. 24 1 

appeared (to use the similitude of an ingenious writer) 
like a forest of cedars with their heads reaching to 
the clouds. He so warmed and animated the people 
against this monstrous ornament, that it lay under a 
kind of persecution ; and whenever it appeared in 
public, was pelted down by the rabble, who flung 
stones at the persons that wore it. But notwithstand- 
ing this prodigy vanished while the preacher was 
among them, it began to appear again some months 
after his departure ; or, to tell it in Monsieur Paradin's 
own words, ' The women, that, like snails in a fright, 
had drawn in their horns, shot them out again as soon 
as the danger was over.' This extravagance of the 
women's head-dresses in that age is taken notice of 
by Monsieur D'Argentre in his History of Bretagne, 
and by other historians as well as the person I have 
here quoted. 

It is usually observed, that a good reign is the only 
time for the making of laws against the exorbitance 
of power ; in the same manner, an excessive head- 
dress may be attacked the most effectually when the 
fashion is against it. I do, therefore, recommend this 
paper to my female readers by way of prevention. 

I would desire the fair sex to consider how im- 
possible it is for them to add anything that can be 
ornamental to what is already the master-piece of 
nature. The head has the most beautiful appearance, 
as well as the highest station, in a human figure. 
Nature has laid out all her art in beautifying the 
face : she has touched it with vermilion, planted in it 
a double row of ivory, made it the seat of smiles and 
blushes, lighted it up and enlivened it with the bright- 
ness of the eyes, hung it on each side with curious 
organs of sense, given it airs and graces that cannot 
be described, and surrounded it with such a flowing 



242 HUMOURS OF FASHION. , 

shade of hair as sets all its beauties in the most agree- 
able light ; in short, she seems to have designed the 
head as the cupola to the most glorious of her works ; 
and when we load it with such a pile of supernumerary 
ornaments, we destroy the symmetry of the human 
figure, and foolishly contrive to call off the eye from 
great and real beauties, to childish gew-gaws, ribbons, 
and bone-lace. 



THE FAN EXERCISE. 

I DO not know whether to call the following letter 
a satire upon coquettes, or a representation of their 
several fantastical accomplishments, or what other 
title to give it ; but as it is I shall communicate it to 
the pubhc. It will sufficiently explain its own inten- 
tions, so that I shall give it my reader at length, 
without either preface or postscript. 

Mr. Spectator, 

Women are armed with fans as men with swords, and 
sometimes do more execution with them. To the end, 
therefore, that ladies may be entire mistresses of the 
weapon which they bear, I have erected an Academy for 
the training up of young women in the Exercise of the 
Fan, according to the most fashionable airs and motions 
that are now practised at court. The ladies who carry fans 
under me are drawn up twice a day in my great hall, where 
they are instructed in the use of their arms, and exercised 
by the following words of command : 

Handle your Fans, 
Unfurl your Fa7is^ 
Discharge your FanSy 
Ground your Fans, 



Discharge your Fans^ J 

Ground your Fans, f 

Recover your Fans, li 

Flutter your Fans. ■ 

I 



THE FAN EXERCISE. 243 

By the right observation of these few plain words of com- 
mand, a woman of a tolerable genius who will apply her- 
self diligently to her exercise for the space of one half year, 
shall be able to give her fan all the graces that can possi- 
bly enter into that little modish machine. 

But to the end that my readers may form to themselves 
a right notion of this exercise, I beg leave to explain it to 
them in all its parts. When my female regiment is drawn 
up in array, with every one her weapon in her hand, upon 
my giving the word to Handle their Fans, each of them 
shakes her fan at me with a smile, then gives her right- 
hand woman a tap upon the shoulder, then presses her lips 
with the extremity of her fan, then lets her arms fall in an 
easy motion, and stands in readiness to receive the next 
word of command. All this is done with a close fan, and 
is generally learned in the first week. 

The next motion is that of Unfurling the Fan, in which 
are comprehended several little flirts and vibrations, as 
also gradual and deliberate openings, with many voluntary 
fallings asunder in the fan itself, that are seldom learned 
under a month's practice. This part of the exercise pleases 
the spectators more than any other, as it discovers on a 
sudden an infinite number of Cupids, garlands, altars, birds, 
beasts, rainbows, and the like agreeable figures, that dis- 
play themselves to view, whilst every one in the regiment 
holds a picture in her hand. 

Upon my giving the word to Discharge their Fans, they 
give one general crack, that may be heard at a consider- 
able distance when the wind sits fair. This is one of the 
most difficult parts of the exercise ; but I have several 
ladies with me, who at their first entrance could not give 
a pop loud enough to be heard at the further end of a 
room, who can now Discharge a Fan in such a manner, 
that it shall make a report like a pocket-pistol. I have 
likewise taken care (in order to hinder young women 
from letting oif" their fans in wrong places or unsuitable 
occasions) to show upon what subject the crack of a fan 
may come in properly. I have likewise invented a fan, 
with which a girl of sixteen, by the help of a little 
wind which is enclosed about one of the largest sticks 



244 HUMOURS OF FASHION. 

can make as loud a crack as a woman of fifty with an 
ordinary fan. 

When the fans are thus discharged, the word of com- 
mand in course is to Ground their Fans. This teaches a 
lady to quit her fan gracefully when she throws it aside, 
in order to take up a pack of cards, adjust a curl of hair, 
replace a fallen pin, or apply herself to any other matter of 
importance. This part of the exercise, as it only consists 
in tossing a fan with an air upon a long table (which 
stands by for that purpose) may be learnt in two days' time 
as well as in a twelvemonth. 

When my female regiment is thus disarmed, I generally 
let them walk about the room for some time ; when on a 
sudden (like ladies that look upon their watches after a 
long visit) they all of them hasten to their arms, catch 
them up in a hurry, and place themselves in their proper 
stations upon my calling out Recover your Fans. This 
part of the exercise is not difficult, provided a woman 
applies her thoughts to it. 

The Fluttering of the Fan is the last, and, indeed, the 
master-piece of the whole exercise ; but if a lady does not 
misspend her time, she may make herself mistress of it in 
three months. I generally lay aside the dog-days and the 
hot time of thie summer for the teaching of this part of the 
exercise ; for as soon as ever I pronounce Flutter your 
Fans, the place is filled with so many zephyrs and gentle 
breezes as are very refreshing in that season of the year, 
though they might be dangerous to ladies of a tender 
constitution in any other. 

There is an infinite variety of motions to be made use 
of in the Flutter of a Fan : there is the angry flutter, 
the modest flutter, the timorous flutter, the confused flut- 
ter, the merry flutter, and the amorous flutter. Not to 
be tedious, there is scarce any emotion in the mind 
which does not produce a suitable agitation in the fan ; 
insomuch, that if I only see the fan of a disciplined lady, 
I know very well whether she laughs, frowns, or blushes. 
I have seen a fan so very angry, that it would have been 
dangerous for the absent lover who provoked it to have 
come within the wind of it ; and at other times so very 



A LADY S DIARY. 245 

languishing, that I have been glad for the lady''s sake the 
lover was at a sufficient distance from it. I need not add, 
that a fan is either a prude or coquette, according to the 
nature of the person who bears it. To conclude my letter, 
I must acquaint you, that I have from my own observations 
compiled a little treatise for the use of my scholars, entitled. 
The Passions of the Fan ; which I will communicate to 
you, if you think it may be of use to the public. I shall 
have a general review on Thursday next ; to which you 
shall be very welcome if you will honour it with your 
presence. 

I am, &c. 

P.S. I teach young gentlemen the whole art of 
gallanting a fan. 

N.B. I have several little plain fans made for this use, 
to avoid expense. 



A LADY'S DIARY. 

The journal with which I presented my reader on 
Tuesday last, has brought me in several letters, with 
accounts of many private lives cast into that form. 
I have the Rake's Journal, the Sot's Journal, the 
Whoremaster's Journal, and among several others a 
very curious piece, entitled, ' The Journal of a Mohock.' 
By these instances I find that the intention of my last 
Tuesday's paper has been mistaken by many of my 
readers. I did not design so much to expose vice as 
idleness, and aimed at those persons who pass away 
their time rather in trifles and impertinence, than in 
crimes and immoralities. Offences of this latter kind 
are not to be dallied with, or treated in so ludicrous a 
manner. In short, my journal only holds up folly to 
the light, and shows the disagreeableness of such 
actions as are indifferent in themselves, and blame- 



246 HUMOURS OF FASHION. 

able only as they proceed from creatures endowed 
with reason. 

My following correspondent, who calls herself Cla- 
rinda, is such a journaHst as I require : she seems by 
her letter to be placed in a modish state of indifference 
between vice and virtue, and to be susceptible of 
either, were there proper pains taken with her. Had 
her journal been filled with gallantries, or such occur- 
rences as had shown her wholly divested of her 
natural innocence, notwithstanding it might have been 
more pleasing to the generality of readers, I should 
not have published it ; but as it is only the picture 
of a life filled with a fashionable kind of gaiety and 
laziness, I shall set down five days of it, as I have 
received it from the hand of my correspondent. 

Dear Mr. Spectator, 

You having set your readers an exercise in one of 
your last week^s papers, I have performed mine according 
to your orders, and herewith send it you enclosed. You 
must know, Mr. Spectator, that I am a maiden lady of a 
good fortune, who have had several matches offered me for 
these ten years last past, and have at present warm appli- 
cations made to me by a very pretty fellow. As I am at 
my own disposal, I come up to town every winter, and pass 
my time in it after the manner you will find in the follow- 
ing journal, which I began to write upon the very day after 
your Spectator upon that subject. | 

Tuesday night. Could not go to sleep till one in the 
morning for thinking of my journal. 

Wednesday. From eight to ten. Drank two dishes of 
chocolate in bed, and fell asleep after them. 

F7-om ten to eleven. Eat a slice of bread and butter, 
drank a dish of bohea, read the Spectator. 

From eleven to one. At my toilette, tried a new head. 



A LADY S DIARY. 247 

Gave orders for Veny to be combed and washed. Mem. 
I look best in blue. 

From 07ie till half an ho7ir after two. Drove to the 
Change. Cheapened a couple of fans. 

Till four. At dinner. Mem. Mr. Froth passed by in 
his new Hveries. 

F?'om four to six. Dressed, paid a visit to old Lady 
Blithe and her sister, having before heard they were gone 
out of town that day. 

From six to eleven. At basset. Mem. Never set again 
upon the ace of diamonds. 

Thursday. Fro7n eleven at night to eight iti the morn- 
ing. Dreamed that I punted to Mr. Froth. 

From eight to ten. Chocolate. Read two acts in 
Aurenzebe a-bed. 

From ten to eleven. Tea-table. Sent to borrow Lady 
Faddle's Cupid for Veny. Read the play-bills. Received 
a letter from Mr. Froth. Mem. Locked it up in my strong 
box. 

Rest of the mornirig. Fontange, the tire-woman, her 
account of Lady Blithe's wash. Broke a tooth in my little 
tortoise-shell comb. Sent Frank to know how my Lady 
Hectick rested after her monkey's leaping out at the win- 
dow. Looked pale. Fontange tells me my glass is not 
true. Dressed by three. 

From three to four. Dinner cold before I sat down. 

Fro?n four to eleven. Saw company. Mr. Froth's 
opinion of Milton. His account of the Mohocks. His 
fancy for a pin-cushion. Picture in the lid of his snuff- 
box. Old Lady Faddle promises me her woman to cut 
my hair. Lost five guineas at crimp. 

Twelve o''clock at night. Went to bed. 

Friday. Eight in the morning. A-bed. Read over 
all Mr. Froth's letters. Cupid and Veny. 

Ten o''clock. Stayed within all day, not at home. 

Fro7n ten to twelve. In conference with my mantua- 
maker. Sorted a suit of ribands. Broke my blue china 
cup. 



248 HUMOURS OF FASHION. 

Frojn twelve to one. Shut myself up in my chamber, 
practised Lady Betty Modely's skuttle. 

One in the afte?'?ioon. Called for my flowered hand- 
kerchief. Worked half a violet leaf in it. Eyes ached 
and head out of order. Threw by my work, and read 
over the remaining part of Aurenzebe. 

From three to four. Dined. 

From four to twelve. Changed my mind, dressed, went 
abroad, and played at crimp till midnight. Found Mrs. 
Spitely at home. Conversation : Mrs. Brillant's necklace 
false stones. Old Lady Loveday going to be married to 
a young fellow that is not worth a groat. Miss Prue gone 
into the country. Tom Townley has red hair. Mem. 
Mrs. Spitely whispered in my ear that she had something 
to tell me about Mr. Froth, I am sure it is not true. 

Between twelve and one. Dreamed that Mr. Froth lay 
at my feet, and called me Indamora. 

Saturday. Rose at eight o'clock in the morning. 
Sat down to my toilette. 

From eight to nine. Shifted a patch for half an hour be- 
fore I could determine it. Fixed it above my left eyebrow. 

From nine to twelve. Drank my tea, and dressed. 

From twelve to two. At chapel. A great deal of good 
company. Mem. The third air in the new opera. Lady 
Blithe dressed frightfully. 

From three to four. Dined. Mrs. Kitty called upon 
me to go to the opera before I was risen from table. 

From dinner to six. Drank tea. Turned off a footman 
for being rude to Veny. 

Six o'clock. Went to the opera. I did not see Mr. 
Froth till the beginning of the second act. Mr. Froth 
talked to a gentleman in a black wig. Bowed to a lady in 
the front box. Mr. Froth and his friend clapped Nicolini 
in the third act. Mr. Froth cried out Ancora. Mr. Froth 
led me to my chair. I think he squeezed my hand. 

Eleven at night. Went to bed. Melancholy dreams. 
Methought Nicolini said he was Mr. Froth. 

Sunday. Indisposed. 



A LADY S DIARY. 249 

Mo^Ti AY. Eight o'clock. Waked by Miss Kitty. Auren- 
zebe lay upon the chair by me. Kitty repeated without 
book the eight best lines in the play. Went in our mobs 
to the dumb man, according to appointment. Told me 
that my lovers name began with a G. Mem. The con- 
jurer was within a letter of Mr. Froth's name, &c. 

Upon my looking back into this my journal, I find that 
I am at a loss to know whether I pass my time well or ill ; 
and indeed never thought of considering how I did it, 
before I perused your speculation upon that subject. I 
scarce find a single action in these five days that I can 
thoroughly approve of, except the working upon the violet 
leaf, which I am resolved to finish the first day I am at 
leisure. As for Mr. Froth and Veny, I did not think they 
took up so much of my time and thoughts, as I find they 
do upon my journal. The latter of whom I will turn off if 
you insist upon it ; and if Mr. Froth does not bring matters 
to a conclusion very suddenly, I will not let my life run 
away in a dream. 

Your humble servant, 

Clarinda. 

To resume one of the morals of my first paper, and 
to confirm Clarinda in her good inchnations, I would 
have her consider what a pretty figure she would 
make among posterity, were the history of her whole 
life pubHshed like these five days of it. I shall con- 
clude my paper with an epitaph written by an uncer- 
tain author on Sir Philip Sidney's sister, a lady who 
seems to have been of a temper very much different 
from that of Clarinda. The last thought of it is so 
very noble, that I dare say my reader will pardon the 
quotation. 

On the Countess Dowager of Pembroke. 

Underneath this marble hearse 
Lies the subject of all verse. 



250 HUMOURS OF FASHION. 

Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother : 
Death, ere thou hast killed another, 
Fair, and learned, and good as she, 
Time shall throw a dart at thee. 



FASHIONS FROM FRANCE. 

There is nothing which I more desire than a safe 
and honourable peace, though at the same time I am 
very apprehensive of many ill consequences that may 
attend it. I do not mean in regard to our politics, 
but to our manners. What an inundation of ribbons 
and brocades will break in upon us ! what peals of 
laughter and impertinence shall we be exposed to ! 
For the prevention of these great evils, I could 
heartily wish that there was an act of parliament for 
prohibiting the importation of French fopperies. 

The female inhabitants of our island have already 
received very strong impressions from this ludicrous 
nation, though by the length of the war (as there is no 
evil which has not some good attending it) they are 
pretty well worn out and forgotten. I remember the 
time when some of our well-bred country-women kept 
their valet de chauibre, because, forsooth, a man was 
much more handy about them than one of their own 
sex. I myself have seen one of these male Abigails 
tripping about the room with a looking-glass in his 
hand, and combing his lady's hair a whole morning 
together. Whether or no there was any truth in the 
story of a lady's being got with child by one of these 
her handmaids, I cannot tell ; but I think at present 
the whole race of them is extinct in our own country. 

About the time that several of our sex were taken 
into this kind of service, the ladies likewise brought 



FASHIONS FROM FRANCE. 25 1 

up the fashion of receiving visits in their beds. It 
was then looked upon as a piece of ill-breeding for a 
woman to refuse to see a man because she was not 
stirring ; and a porter would have been thought unfit 
for his place, that could have made so awkward an 
excuse. As I love to see everything that is new, I 
once prevailed upon my friend Will. Honeycomb to 
carry me along with him to one of these travelled 
ladies, desiring him, at the same time, to present me 
as a foreigner who could not speak English, that so 
I might not be obliged to bear a part in the discourse. 
The lady, though willing to appear undrest, had put 
on her best looks, and painted herself for our recep- 
tion. Her hair appeared in a very nice disorder, as 
the night-gown which was thrown upon her shoulders 
was ruffled with great care. For my part, I am so 
shocked with everything which looks immodest in the 
fair sex, that I could not forbear taking off my eye 
from her when she moved in her bed, and was in the 
greatest confusion imaginable every time she stirred 
a leg or an arm. As the coquets, who introduced this 
custom, grew old, they left it off by degrees ; well 
knowing that a woman of threescore may kick and 
tumble her heart out, without making any impressions. 
Sempronia is at present the most profest admirer 
of the French nation, but is so modest as to admit 
her visitants no further than her toilet. It is a very 
odd sight that beautiful creature makes, when she is 
talking pohtics with her tresses flowing about her 
shoulders, and examining that face in the glass, which 
does such execution upon all the male standers-by. 
How prettily does she divide her discourse between 
her woman and her visitants ! What sprightly tran- 
sitions does she make from an opera or a sermon, to 
an ivory comb or a pincushion ! How have I been 



252 HUMOURS OF FASHION. 

pleased to see her interrupted in an account of her 
travels by a message to her footman ! and holding her 
tongue in the midst of a moral reflection by applying 
the tip of it to a patch ! 

There is nothing which exposes a woman to greater 
dangers, than that gaiety and airiness of temper, 
which are natural to most of the sex. It should be 
therefore the concern of every wise and virtuous 
woman, to keep this sprightliness from degenerating 
into levity. On the contrary, the whole discourse and 
behaviour of the French is to make the sex more 
fantastical, or (as they are pleased to term it) more 
awakened, than is consistent either with virtue or 
discretion. To speak loud in public assembUes, to let 
every one hear you talk of things that should only be 
mentioned in private, or in whisper, are looked upon 
as parts of a refined education. At the same time, a 
blush is unfashionable, and silence more ill-bred than 
anything that can be spoken. In short, discretion 
and modesty, which in all other ages and countries 
have been regarded as the greatest ornaments of the 
fair sex, are considered as the ingredients of narrow 
conversation and family behaviour. 

Some years ago I was at the tragedy of Macbeth, 
and unfortunately placed myself under a woman of 
quality that is since dead ; who, as I found by the 
noise she made, was newly returned from France. 
A little before the rising of the curtain, she broke out 
into a loud soliloquy, 'When will the dear witches 
enter? ' and immediately upon their first appearance, 
asked a lady that sat three boxes from her, on her 
right hand, if those witches were not charming 
creatures. A little after, as Betterton was in one of 
the finest speeches of the play, she shook her fan at 
another lady, who sat as far on the left hand, and told 



FASHIONS FROM FRANCE. 2 53 

her with a whisper, that might be heard all over the 
pit, we must not expect to see Balloon to-night. Not 
long after, calling out to a young baronet by his name, 
who sat three seats before me, she asked him whether 
Macbeth's wife was still alive ; and before he could 
give an answer, fell a talking of the ghost of Banquo. 
She had by this time formed a Httle audience to her- 
self, and fixed the attention of all about her. But as 
I had a mind to hear the play, I got out of the sphere 
of her impertinence, and planted myself in one of the 
remotest corners of the pit. 

This pretty childishness of behaviour is one of 
the most refined parts of coquetry, and is not to be 
attained in perfection by ladies that do not travel for 
their improvement. A natural and unconstrained 
behaviour has something in it so agreeable, that it is 
no wonder to see people endeavouring after it. But 
at the same time, it is so very hard to hit, when it is 
not born with us, that people often make themselves 
ridiculous in attempting it. 

A very ingenious French author tells us, that the 
ladies of the court of France, in his time, thought it 
ill-breeding, and a kind of female pedantry, to pro- 
nounce an hard word right ; for which reason they 
took frequent occasion to use hard words, that they 
might show a politeness in murdering them. He 
further adds, that a lady of some quality at court, 
having accidentally made use of an hard word in a 
proper place, and pronounced it right, the whole 
assembly was out of countenance for her. 

I must, however, be so just to own, that there are 
many ladies who have travelled several thousands of 
miles without being the worse for it, and have brought 
home with them all the modesty, discretion, and good 
sense, that they went abroad with. As, on the con- 



254 HUMOURS OF FASHION. 

trary, ihere are great numbers of travelled ladies, who 
have lived all their days within the smoke of London. 
I have known a woman that never was out of the 
parish of St. James's betray as many foreign fopperies 
in her carriage, as she could have gleaned up in half 
the countries of Europe. 



WOMAN ON HORSEBACK. 

Most of the papers I give the public are written on 
subjects that never vary, but are for ever fixt and immu- 
table. Of this kind are all my more serious essays 
and discourses ; but there is another sort of specula- 
tions, which I consider as occasional papers, that take 
their rise from the folly, extravagance, and caprice of 
the present age. For I look upon myself as one set 
to watch the manners and behaviour of my country- 
men and contemporaries, and to mark down every 
absurd fashion, ridiculous custom, or affected form of 
speech, that makes its appearance in the world, during 
the course of these my speculations. The petticoat 
no sooner begun to swell, but I observed its motions. 
The party-patches had not time to muster themselves 
before I detected them. I had intelligence of the 
coloured hood the very first time it appeared in a 
public assembly. I might here mention several other 
the hke contingent subjects, upon which I have be- 
stowed distinct papers. By this means I have so 
effectually quashed those irregularities which gave 
occasion to them, that I am afraid posterity will 
scarce have sufficient idea of them to relish those 
discourses which were in no little vogue at the time 
when they were written. They will be apt to think 



WOMAN ON HORSEBACK. 255 

that the fashions and customs I attacked were some 
fantastic conceits of my own, and that their great- 
grandmothers could not be so whimsical as I have 
represented them. For this reason, when I think on 
the figure my several volumes of speculations will 
make about a hundred years hence, I consider them 
as so many pieces of old plate, where the weight will 
be regarded, but the fashion lost. 

Among the several female extravagances I have 
already taken notice of, there is one which still keeps 
its ground. I mean that of the ladies who dress 
themselves in a hat and feather, a riding-coat and a 
periwig; or at least tie up their hair in a bag or 
ribbon, in imitation of the smart part of the opposite 
sex. I have already shown my dislike of this im- 
modest custom more than once : but in contempt of 
everything I have hitherto said, I am informed that 
the highways about this great city are still very much 
infested with these female cavaliers. 

I remember when I was at my friend Sir Roger de 
Coverley's about this time twelvemonth, an equestrian 
lady of this order appeared upon the plains which lay 
at a distance from his house. 1 was at that time 
walking in the fields with my old friend ; and as his 
tenants ran out on every side to see so strange a sight, 
Sir Roger asked one of them who came by us, what it 
was ? To which the country fellow replied, ' 'T is a 
gentlewoman, saving your worship's presence, in a 
coat and hat.' This produced a great deal of mirth 
at the knight's house, where we had a story at the 
same time of another of his tenants, who meeting this 
gentleman-Hke lady on the high-way, was asked by 
her whether that was Coverley Hall ; the honest man 
seeing only the male part of the querist, replied, ' Yes 
sir ; ' but upon the second question, ' whether Sii 



256 HUMOURS OF FASHION. 

Roger de Coverley was a married man/ having 
dropped his eye upon the petticoat, he changed his 
note into ' No madam.' 

Had one of these hermaphrodites appeared in 
Juvenal's day, with what an indignation should we 
have seen her described by that excellent satirist. 
He would have represented her in her riding habit, 
as a greater monster than the Centaur. He would 
have called for sacrifices, or purifying waters, to expi- 
ate the appearance of such a prodigy. He would 
have invoked the shades of Portia or Lucretia, to see 
into what the Roman ladies had transformed them- 
selves. 

For my own part, I am for treating the sex with 
greater tenderness, and have all along made use of 
the most gentle methods to bring them off from any 
little extravagance into which they are sometimes un- 
warily fallen : I think it however absolutely necessary 
to keep up the partition between the two sexes, and 
to take notice of the smallest encroachments which 
the one makes upon the other. I hope, therefore, 
that I shall not hear any more complaints on this sub- 
ject. I am sure my she-disciples who peruse these 
my daily lectures, have profited but little by them, if 
they are capable of giving in to such an amphibious 
dress. This I should not have mentioned, had not I 
lately met one of these my female readers in Hyde 
Park, who looked upon me with a masculine assurance, 
and cocked her hat full in my face. 

For my part, I have one general key to the be- 
haviour of the fair sex. When I see them singular 
in any part of their dress, I conclude it is not without, 
some evil intention; and therefore question not but' 
the design of this strange fashion is to smite morC' 
effectually their male beholders. Now to set them, 



WOMAN ON HORSEBACK. 257 

right in this particular, I would fain have them con- 
sider with themselves whether we are not more likely 
to be struck by a figure entirely female, than with such 
an one as we may see every day in our glasses : or, 
if they please, let them reflect upon their own hearts, 
and think how they would be affected should they 
meet a man on horseback in his breeches and jack- 
boots, and at the same time dressed up in a commode 
and a night-rail. 

I must observe that this fashion was first of all 
brought to us from France, a country which has in- 
fected all the nations in Europe with its levity. I 
speak not this in derogation of a whole people, having 
more than once found fault with those general re- 
flections which strike at kingdoms or commonwealths 
in the gross ; a piece of cruelty, which an ingenious 
writer of our own compares to that of Caligula, who 
wished the Roman people had all but one neck, that 
he might behead them at a blow. I shall therefore 
only remark, that as liveliness and assurance are in a 
peculiar manner the qualifications of the French nation, 
the same habits and customs will not give the same 
offence to that people, which they produce among 
those of our own country. Modesty is our distin- 
guishing character, as vivacity is theirs ; and when this 
our national virtue appears in that family beauty, for 
which our British ladies are celebrated above all 
others in the universe, it makes up the most amiable 
object that the eye of man can possibly behold. 



VARIOUS ESSAYS. 



OMENS. 

Going yesterday to dine with an old acquaintance, I 1 
had the misfortune to find his whole family very much 
dejected. Upon asking him the occasion of it, he told 
me that his wife had dreamt a strange dream the night 
before, which they were afraid portended some mis- 
fortune to themselves or to their children. At her 
coming into the room, I observed a settled melan- 
choly in her countenance, which I should have been 
troubled for, had I not heard from whence it pro- 
ceeded. We were no sooner sat down, but, after hav- 
ing looked upon me a little while, ' My dear,' says she, 
turning to her husband, ' you may now see the stranger 
that was in the candle last night.' Soon after this, as 
they began to talk of family affairs, a little boy at the 
lower end of the table told her, that he was to go into 
join-hand on Thursday. ' Thursday ! ' says she. ' No, 
child, if it please God, you shall not begin upon Chil- 
dermas-day : tell your writing master that Friday will 
be soon enough.' I was reflecting with myself on the 
oddness of her fancy, and wondering that anybody 
would establish it as a rule to lose a day in every 
week. In the midst of these my musings, she desired 
me to reach her a little salt upon the point of my 
knife, which I did in such a trepidation and hurry 
of obedience, that I let it drop by the way ; at which 
258 



OMENS. 259 

she immediately startled, and said it fell towards her. 
Upon this I looked very blank ; and observing the 
concern of the whole table, began to consider myself, 
with some confusion, as a person that had brought a 
disaster upon the family. The lady, however, recover- 
ing herself, after a little space, said to her husband, 
with a sigh, ' My dear, misfortunes never come single.' 
My friend, I found, acted but an under part at his 
table, and being a man of more good-nature than 
understanding, thinks himself obliged to fall in with 
all the passions and humours of his yoke-fellow. ' Do 
not you remember, child,' says she, ' that the pigeon- 
house fell the very afternoon that our careless wench 
spilt the salt upon the table ? ' ' Yes,' says he, ' my 
dear ; and the next post brought us an account of the 
battle of Almanza.' The reader may guess at the 
figure I made, after having done all this mischief. I 
despatched my dinner as soon as I could, with my 
usual taciturnity; when, to my utter confusion, the 
lady seeing me quitting my knife and fork, and laying 
them across one another upon my plate, desired me 
that I would humour her so far as to take them out of 
that figure, and place them side by side. What the 
absurdity was which I had committed I did not know, 
but I suppose there was some traditionary superstition 
in it ; and therefore in obedience to the lady of the 
house, I disposed of my knife and fork in two parallel 
lines, which is the figure I shall always lay them in for 
the future, though I do not know any reason for it. 

It is not difficult for a man to see that a person has 
conceived an aversion to him. For my own part, I 
quickly found, by the lady's looks, that she regarded 
me as a very odd kind of fellow, with an unfortunate 
aspect. For which reason I took my leave imme- 
diately after dinner, and withtlrew to my own lodgings. 



260 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 

Upon my return home, I fell into a profound con- 
templation of the evils that attend these superstitious 
follies of mankind ; how they subject us to imaginary 
afflictions, and additional sorrows, that do not properly 
come within our lot. As if the natural calamities of 
life were not sufficient for it, we turn the most in- 
different circumstances into misfortunes, and suffer 
as much from trifling accidents as from real evils. I 
have known the shooting of a star spoil a night's rest ; 
and have seen a man in love grow pale, and lose his 
appetite, upon the plucking of a merry-thought. A 
screech-owl at midnight has alarmed a family more 
than a band of robbers : nay, the voice of a cricket 
hath struck more terror than the roaring of a lion. 
There is nothing so inconsiderable, which may not 
appear dreadful to an imagination that is filled with 
omens and prognostics. A rusty nail, or a crooked 
pin, shoot up into prodigies. 

I remember I was once in a mixt assembly, that 
was full of noise and mirth, when on a sudden an old 
woman unluckily observed there were thirteen of us 
in company. This remark struck a panic terror into 
several who were present, insomuch that one or two 
of the ladies were going to leave the room ; but a 
friend of mine taking notice that one of our female 
companions was big with child, affirmed, there were 
fourteen in the room, and that, instead of portending 
one of the company should die, it plainly foretold one 
of them should be born. Had not my friend found 
this expedient to break the omen, I question not but 
half the women in the company would have fallen sick 
that very night. 

An old maid, that is troubled with the vapours, pro- 
duces infinite disturbances of this kind among her 
friends and neighbours. I know a maiden aunt of a 



OMENS. 261 

great family, who is one of these antiquated Sibyls, 
that forebodes and prophesies from one end of the 
year to the other. She is always seeing apparitions 
and hearing death-watches; and was the other day 
almost frighted out of her wits by the great house- 
dog, that howled in the stable at a time when she lay 
ill of the tooth-ache. Such an extravagant cast of 
mind engages multitudes of people, not only in im- 
pertinent terrors, but in supernumerary duties of life ; 
and arises from that fear and ignorance which are 
natural to the soul of man. The horror with which 
we entertain the thoughts of death, (or indeed of any 
future evil,) and the uncertainty of its approach, fill 
a melancholy mind with innumerable apprehensions 
and suspicions, and consequently dispose it to the 
observation of such groundless prodigies and predic- 
tions. For as it is the chief concern of wise men to 
retrench the evils of hfe by the reasonings of philoso- 
phy, it is the employment of fools to multiply them by 
the sentiments of superstition. 

For my own part, I should be very much troubled 
were I endowed with this divining quality, though it 
should inform me truly of everything that can befall 
me. I would not anticipate the relish of any happi- 
ness, nor feel the weight of any misery, before it actu- 
ally arrives. 

I know but one way of fortifying my soul against 
these gloomy presages and terrors of mind, and that 
is, by securing to myself the friendship and protection 
of that Being who disposes of events, and governs 
futurity. He sees at one view the whole thread of 
my existence ; not only that part of it which I have 
already passed through, but that which runs forward 
into all the depths of eternity. When I lay me down 
to sleep, I recommend myself to his care ; when I 



262 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 

awake, I give myself np to his direction. Amidst all 
the evils that threaten me, I will look up to him for 
help, and question not but he will either avert them, 
or turn them to my advantage. Though I know neither 
the time nor the manner of the death I am to die, I am 
not at all solicitous about it ; because I am sure that 
he knows them both, and that he will not fail to com- 
fort and support me under them. 



LADY ORATORS. 

We are told by some ancient authors, that Socrates 
was instructed in eloquence by a woman, whose name, 
if I am not mistaken, was Aspasia. I have, indeed, 
very often looked upon that art as the most proper 
for the female sex, and I think the universities would 
do well to consider whether they should not fill their 
rhetoric chairs with she-professors. 

It has been said in the praise of some men, that 
they could talk whole hours together upon anything ; 
but it must be owned to the honour of the other sex, 
that there are many among them who can talk whole 
hours together upon nothing. I have known a woman 
branch out into a long extempore dissertation upon 
the edging of a petticoat, and chide her servant for 
breaking a china cup in all the figures of rhetoric. 

Were women admitted to plead in courts of judi- 
cature, I am persuaded they would carry the eloquence 
of the bar to greater heights than it has yet arrived at. 
If any one doubts this, let him but be present at those 
debates which frequently arise among the ladies of the 
British fishery. 

The first kind, therefore, of female orators which I 



LADY ORATORS. 263 

shall take notice of, are those who are employed in 
stirring up the passions, a part of rhetoric in which 
Socrates his wife had perhaps made a greater pro- 
ficiency than his above-mentioned teacher. 

The second kind of female orators are those who 
deal in invectives, and who are commonly known by 
the name of the censorious. The imagination and 
elocution of this set of rhetoricians is wonderful. With 
what a fluency of invention, and copiousness of ex- 
pression, will they enlarge upon every little slip in the 
behaviour of another ! With how many different cir- 
cumstances, and with what variety of phrases, will 
they tell over the same story ! I have known an old 
lady make an unhappy marriage the subject of a 
month's conversation. She blamed the bride in one 
place ; pitied her in another ; laughed at her in a 
third ; wondered at her in a fourth ; was angry with 
her in a fifth ; and in short, wore out a pair of coach- 
horses in expressing her concern for her. At length, 
after having quite exhausted the subject on this side, 
she made a visit to the new-married pair, praised the 
wife for the prudent choice she had made, told her the 
unreasonable reflections which some malicious people 
had cast upon her, and desired that they might be 
better acquainted. The censure and approbation of 
this kind of women are therefore only to be considered 
as helps to discourse. 

A third kind of female orators may be comprehended 
under the word Gossips. Mrs. Fiddle Faddle is per- 
fectly accomphshed in this sort of eloquence ; she 
launches out into descriptions of christenings, runs 
divisions upon an head-dress, knows every dish of 
meat that is served up in her neighbourhood, and en- 
tertains her company a whole afternoon together with 
the wit of her Httle boy, before he is able to speak. 



264 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 

The coquette may be looked upon as a fourth kind 
of feniale orator. To give herself the larger field for 
discourse, she hates and loves in the same breath, 
talks to her lap-dog or parrot, is uneasy in all kinds 
of weather, and in every part of the room : she has 
false quarrels and feigned obligations to all the men 
of her acquaintance ; sighs when she is not sad, and 
laughs when she is not merry. The coquette is in 
particular a great mistress of that part of oratory which 
is called action, and indeed seems to speak for no 
other purpose, but as it gives her an opportunity of 
stirring a limb, or varying a feature, of glancing her 
eyes, or playing with her fan. 

As for news-mongers, politicians, mimics, story- 
tellers, with other characters of that nature, which 
give birth to loquacity, they are as commonly found 
among the men as the women ; for which reason I 
shall pass them over in silence. 

I have been often puzzled to assign a cause why 
women should have this talent of a ready utterance in 
so much greater perfection than men. I have some- 
times fancied that they have not a retentive power, 
the faculty of suppressing their thoughts, as men 
have, but that they are necessitated to speak every- 
thing they think ; and if so, it would perhaps furnish 
a very strong argument to the Cartesians, for the sup- 
porting of their doctrine, that the soul always thinks. 
But as several are of opinion that the fair sex are not 
altogether strangers to the arts of dissembling, and 
concealing their thoughts, I have been forced to re- 
Hnquish that opinion, and have, therefore, endeavoured 
to seek after some better reason. In order to it, a 
friend of mine, who is an excellent anatomist, has 
promised me by the first opportunity to dissect a 
woman's tongue, and to examine whether there may 



LADY ORATORS. 265 

not be in it certain juices which render it so wonder- 
fully voluble or flippant, or whether the fibres of it 
may not be made up of a finer or more pliant thread, 
or whether there are not in it some particular muscles, 
which dart it up and down by such sudden glances 
and vibrations ; or whether, in the last place, there 
may not be certain undiscovered channels running 
from the head and the heart, to this httle instrument 
of loquacity, and conveying into it a perpetual afflu- 
ence of animal spirits. Nor must I omit the reason 
which Hudibras has given, why those who can talk on 
trifles speak with the greatest fluency ; namely, that 
the tongue is hke a race-horse, which runs the faster 
the lesser weight it carries. ^ 

Which of these reasons soever may be looked upon 
as the most probable, I think the Irishman's thought 
was very natural, who, after some hours' conversa- 
tion with a female orator, told her, that he beheved 
her tongue was very glad when she was asleep, for 
that it had not a moment's rest all the while she was 
awake. 

That excellent old ballad of the ' Wanton Wife of 
Bath ' has the following remarkable lines : 

I think, quoth Thomas, women's tongues 
Of aspen leaves are made. 

And Ovid, though in the description of a very 
barbarous circumstance, tells us, that when the tongue 
of a beautiful female was cut out, and thrown upon the 
ground, it could not forbear muttering even in that 
posture : 

— Comprehensam forcipe linguam 

Abstulit ense fero. Radix micat ultima linguae 

Ipsa jacet, terraquse tremens immurmurat atrae; 

Utque salire solet mutilatae cauda colubrae, 

Palpitat, 



266 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 

If a tongue would be talking without a mouth, what 
could it have done when it had all its organs of speech, 
and accomplices of sound, about it? I might here 
mention the story of the pippin-woman, had not I 
some reason to look upon it as fabulous. 

I must confess I am so wonderfully charmed with 
the music of this little instrument, that I would by no 
means discourage it. All that I aim at by this dis- 
sertation is, to cure it of several disagreeable notes, 
and in particular of those little jarrings and dis- 
sonances which arise from anger, censoriousness, 
gossiping, and coquetry. In short, I would have it 
always tuned by good-nature, truth, discretion, and 
sincerity.^ 



ADVENTURES OF A SHILLING. 

I WAS last night visited by a friend of mine, who 
has an inexhaustible fund of discourse, and never fails 
to entertain his company with a variety of thoughts 
and hints that are altogether new and uncommon. 
Whether it were in complaisance to my way of living, 
or his real opinion, he advanced the following paradox, 
* That it required much greater talents to fill up and 
become a retired Hfe, than a life of business.' Upon 
this occasion he rallied very agreeably the busy men 
of the age, who only valued themselves for being in 
motion, and passing through a series of trifling and 
insignificant actions. In the heat of his discourse, 
seeing a piece of money lying on my table, ' I defy 
(says he) any of these active persons to produce half 
the adventures that this twelvepenny piece has been 
engaged in, were it possible for him to give us an 
account of his life.' 



ADVENTURES OF A SHILLING. 267 

My friend's talk made so odd an impression upon 
my mind, that soon after I was a-bed I fell insensibly 
into a most unaccountable reverie, that had neither 
moral nor design in it, and cannot be so properly 
called a dream as a delirium. 

Methought the shilling that lay upon the table 
reared itself upon its edge, and turning the face 
towards me, opened its mouth, and in a soft silver 
sound, gave me the following account of his life and 
adventures : 

' I was born (says he) on the side of a mountain, 
near a little village of Peru, and made a voyage to 
England in an ingot, under the convoy of Sir Francis 
Drake. I was, soon after my arrival, taken out of my 
Indian habit, refined, naturahzed, and put into the 
Bridsh mode, with the face of Queen EHzabeth on one 
side, and the arms of the country on the other. Being 
thus equipped, I found in me a wonderful inclination 
to ramble, and visit all parts of the new world into 
which I was brought. The people very much favoured 
my natural disposition, and shifted me so fast from 
hand to hand, that before I was five years old, I had 
travelled into almost every corner of the nation. But 
in the beginning of my sixth year, to my unspeakable 
grief, I fell into the hands of a miserable old fellow, 
who clapped me into an iron chest, where I found five 
hundred more of my own quality who lay under the 
same confinement. The only relief we had, was to be 
taken out and counted over in the fresh air every 
morning and evening. After an imprisonment of 
several years, we heard somebody knocking at our 
chest, and breaking it open with a hammer. This we 
found was the old man's heir, who, as his father lay a 
dying, was so good as to come to our release : he 
separated us that very day. What was the fate of my 



268 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 

companions I know not : as for myself, I was sent to 
the apothecary's shop for a pint of sack. The apothe- 
cary gave me to an herb-woman, the herb-woman 
to a butcher, the butcher to a brewer, and the brewer 
to his wife, who made a present of me to a noncon- 
formist preacher. After this manner I made my way 
merrily through the world ; for, as 1 told you before, 
we shillings love nothing so much as travelling. I 
sometimes fetched in a shoulder of mutton, sometimes 
a play-book, and often had the satisfaction to treat a 
Templar at a twelvepenny ordinary, or carry him, with 
three friends, to Westminster Hall. 

* In the midst of this pleasant progress which I made 
from place to place, I was arrested by a superstitious 
old woman, who shut me up in a greasy purse, in pur- 
suance of a foolish saying, "That while she kept a 
Queen Ehzabeth's shilling about her, she should never 
be without money." I continued here a close prisoner 
for many months, till at last I was exchanged for eight 
and forty farthings. 

' I thus rambled from pocket to pocket till the be- 
ginning of the civil wars, when, to my shame be it 
spoken, I was employed in raising soldiers against the 
king : for being of a very tempting breadth, a sergeant 
made use of me to inveigle country fellows, and list 
them in the service of the parliament. 

* As soon as he had made one man sure, his way 
was to oblige him to take a shilling of a more homely 
figure, and then practise the same trick upon another. 
Thus I continued doing great mischief to the crown, 
till my officer, chancing one morning to walk abroad 
earlier than ordinary, sacrificed me to his pleasures, 
and made use of me to seduce a milk-maid. This 
wench bent me, and gave me to her sweetheart, 
applying more properly than she intended the usual 



ADVENTURES OF A SHILLING. 269 

form of, " To my love and from my love." This un- 
generous gallant marrying her within a few days after, 
pawned me for a dram of brandy, and drinking me out 
next day, I was beaten flat with a hammer, and again 
set a running. 

' After many adventures, which it would be tedious 
to relate, I was sent to a young spendthrift, in com- 
pany with the will of his deceased father. The young 
fellow, who I found was very extravagant, gave great 
demonstrations of joy at the receiving of the will : 
but opening it, he found himself disinherited and cut 
off from the possession of a fair estate, by virtue of my 
being made a present to him. This put him into such 
a passion, that after having taken me in his hand, and 
cursed me, he squirred me away from him as far as he 
could fling me. I chanced to light in an unfrequented 
place under a dead wall, where I lay undiscovered and 
useless, during the usurpation o£ Oliver Cromwell. 

' About a year after the king's return, a poor cavalier 
that was walking there about dinner-time, fortunately 
cast his eye upon me, and, to the great joy of us both, 
carried me to a cook's shop, where he dined upon me, 
and drank the king's health. When I came again 
into the world, I found that I had been happier in 
my retirement than I thought, having probably, by 
that means, escaped wearing a monstrous pair of 
breeches. 

' Being now of great credit and antiquity, I was 
rather looked upon as a medal than an ordinary coin ; 
for which reason a gamester laid hold of me, and con- 
verted me to a counter, having got together some 
dozens of us for that use. We led a melancholy Hfe in 
his possession, being busy at those hours wherein cur- 
rent coin is at rest, and partaking the fate of our 
master, being in a few moments valued at a crown, a 



270 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 

pound, or a sixpence, according to the situation in 
which the fortune of the cards placed us. I had at 
length the good luck to see my master break, by which 
means I was again sent abroad under my primitive 
denomination of a shilling. 

* I shall pass over many other accidents of less mo- 
ment, and hasten to that fatal catastrophe, when I fell 
into the hands of an artist, who conveyed me under 
ground, and w^ith an unmerciful pair of shears, cut off 
my titles, chpped my brims, retrenched my shape, 
rubbed me to my inmost ring, and, in short, so spoiled 
and pillaged me, that he did not leave me worth a 
groat. You may think what a confusion I was in, to 
see myself thus curtailed and disfigured. I should 
have been ashamed to have shown my head, had not 
all my old acquaintance been reduced to the same 
shameful figure, excepting some few that were punched 
through the belly. In the midst of this general ca- 
lamity, when everybody thought our misfortune irre- 
trievable, and our case desperate, we were thrown into 
the furnace together, and (as it often happens with 
cities rising out of a fire) appeared with greater beauty 
and lustre than we could ever boast of before. What 
has happened to me since this change of sex which 
you now see, I shall take some other opportunity to 
relate. In the mean time, I shall only repeat two 
adventures, as being very extraordinary, and neither 
of them having ever happened to me above once in my 
life. The first was, my being in a poet's pocket, who 
was so taken with the brightness and novelty of my 
appearance, that it gave occasion to the finest bur- 
lesque poem in the British language, entitled from me, 
"The Splendid Shilling." The second adventure, 
which I must not omit, happened to me in the year 
1703, when I was given away in charity to a bhnd 



HUSBANDS AND WIVES. 27 1 

man ; but indeed this was by a mistake, the person 
who gave me having heedlessly thrown me into the 
hat among a pennyworth of farthings.' 



HUSBANDS AND WIVES. 

My friend Will. Honeycomb has told me, for above 
this half year, that he had a great mind to try his 
hand at a Spectator, and that he would fain have one 
of his writing in my works. This morning I received 
from him the following letter, which, after having rec- 
tified some little orthographical mistakes, I shall make 
a present of to the pubHc. 

Dear Spec, 

I was, about two nights ago, in company with very 
agreeable young people of both sexes, where talking of some 
of your papers which are written on conjugal love, there arose 
a dispute among us, whether there were not more bad hus- 
bands in the world than bad wives. A gentleman, who 
was advocate for the ladies, took this occasion to tell us 
the story of a famous siege in Germany, which I have since 
found related in my historical dictionary, after the follow- 
ing manner. When the emperor Conrade the Third had 
besieged Guelphus, duke of Bavaria, in the city of Hens- 
berg, the women, finding that the town could not hold out 
long, petitioned the emperor that they might depart out of 
it, with so much as each of them could carry. The em- 
peror, knowing they could not convey away many of their 
effects, granted them their petition ; when the women, to 
his great surprise, came out of the place with every one her 
husband upon her back. The emperor was so moved at 
the sight, that he burst into tears, and after having very 
much extolled the women for their conjugal affection, gave 
the men to their wives, and received the duke into his 
favour. 



2/2 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 

The ladies did not a little triumph at this story, asking 
us at the same time, whether in our consciences we believed 
that the men of any town in Great Britain would, upon the 
same offer, and at the same conjuncture, have loaden them- 
selves with their wives ; or rather, whether they would not 
have been glad of such an opportunity to get rid of them? 
To this, my very good friend Tom Dapperwit, who took 
upon him to be the mouth of our sex, replied, that they 
would be very much to blame, if they would not do the 
same good office for the women, considering that their 
strength would be greater, and their burdens lighter. As 
we were amusing ourselves with discourses of this nature, 
in order to pass away the evening, which now begins to 
grow tedious, we fell into that laudable and primitive 
diversion of questions and commands. I was no sooner 
vested with the regal authority, but I enjoined all the 
ladies, under pain of my displeasure, to tell the company 
ingenuously, in case they had been in the siege above- 
mentioned, and had the same offers made them as the 
good women of that place, what every one of them would 
have brought off with her, and have thought most worth 
the saving ? There were several merry answers made to 
my question, which entertained us till bed-time. This 
filled my mind with such a huddle of ideas, that upon my 
going to sleep, I fell into the following dream. 

1 saw a town of this island, which shall be nameless, 
invested on every side, and the inhabitants of it so strait- 
ened as to cry for quarter. The general refused any other 
terms than those granted to the above-mentioned town of 
Hensberg, namely, that the married women might come 
out with what they could bring along with them. Imme- 
diately the gate flew open, and a female procession ap- 
peared, multitudes of the sex following one another in a 
row, and staggering under their respective burdens. I 
took my stand upon an eminence in the enemy's camp, 
which was appointed for the general rendezvous of these 
female carriers, being very desirous to look into their sev- 
eral ladings. The first of them had a huge sack upon her 
shoulders, which she set down with great care : upon the 
opening of it, when I expected to have seen her husband 



HUSBANDS AND WIVES. 2^3 

shoot out of it, I found it was filled with china ware. The 
next appeared in a more decent figure, carrying a handsome 
young fellow upon her back: I could not forbear commend- 
ing the young woman for her conjugal affection, when, to 
my great surprise, I found that she had left the good man 
at home, and brought away her gallant. I saw the third, 
at some distance, with a little withered face peeping over 
her shoulder, whom I could not suspect for any but her 
spouse, till upon her setting him down I heard her call him 
dear Pug, and found him to be her favourite monkey. A 
fourth brought a huge bale of cards along with her ; and 
the fifth a Bolonia lap-dog : for her husband, it seems, l3eing 
a very burly man, she thought it would be less trouble for 
her to bring away little Cupid. The next was the wife of a 
rich usurer, loaden with a bag of gold ; she told us that 
her spouse was very old, and by the course of nature, 
could not expect to live long ; and that to show her tender 
regards for him, she had saved that which the poor man 
loved better than his life. The next came towards us with 
her son upon her back, who, we were told, was the great- 
est rake in the place, but so much the mother's darling, 
that she left her husband behind, with a large family of 
hopeful sons and daughters, for the sake of this graceless 
youth. 

It would be endless to mention the several persons, with 
their several loads, that appeared to me in this strange 
vision. All the place about me was covered with packs 
of ribbon, brocades, embroidery, and ten thousand other 
materials, sufficient to have furnished a whole street of 
toy-shops. One of the women having a husband that was 
none of the heaviest, was bringing him off upon her shoul- 
ders, at the same time that she carried a great bundle of 
Flanders lace under her arm ; but finding herself so over- 
loaden, that she could not save both of them, she dropped 
the good man, and brought away the bundle. In short, I 
found but one husband among this great mountain of bag- 
gage, who was a lively cobbler, and kicked and spurred all 
the while his wife was carrying him on, and, as it was said, 
had scarce passed a day in his life without giving her the 
disciphne of the strap. 



274 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 

I cannot conclude my letter, dear Spec., without telling 
thee one very odd whim in this my dream. I saw, me- 
thought, a dozen women employed in bringing oil one 
man ; I could not guess who it should be, till upon his 
nearer approach I discovered thy short phiz. The women 
all declared that it was for the sake of thy works, and not 
thy person, that they brought thee off, and that it was on 
condition that thou shouldst continue the Spectator. If 
thou thinkest this dream will make a tolerable one, it is at 
thy service, from. 

Dear Spec, thine, sleeping and waking, 

Will. Honeycomb. 

The ladies will see by this letter, what I have often 
told them, that Will, is one of those old-fashioned 
men of wit and pleasure of the town, that shows his 
parts by raillery on marriage, and one who has often 
tried his fortune that way without success. I cannot, 
however, dismiss his letter, without observing, that the 
true story on which it is built, does honour to the sex, 
and that, in order to abuse them, the writer is obliged 
to have recourse to dream and fiction. 



RELIGIONS IN WAXWORK. 

Every nation is distinguished by productions that 
are pecuHar to it. Great Britain is particularly fruit- 
ful in religions, that shoot up and flourish in this 
chmate more than in any other. We are so famous 
abroad for our great variety of sects and opinions, that 
an ingenious friend of mine, who is lately returned 
from his travels, assures me, there is a show at this 
time carried up and down in Germany, which repre- 
sents all the religions in Great Britain in waxwork. 



RELIGIONS IN WAXWORK. 2/5 

Notwithstanding that the pliancy of the matter in 
which the images are wrought, makes it capable of 
being moulded into all shapes and figures, my friend 
tells me, that he did not think it possible for it to be 
twisted and tortured into so many screwed faces and 
wry features as appeared in several of the figures that 
composed the show. I was, indeed, so pleased with 
the design of the German artist, that I begged my 
friend to give me an account of it in all its particulars, 
which he did after the following manner : 

' I have often,' says he, ' been present at a show of 
elephants, camels, dromedaries, and other strange 
creatures, but I never saw so great an assembly of 
spectators as were met together at the opening of this 
great piece of waxwork. We were all placed in a 
large hall, according to the price that we had paid for 
our seats. The curtain that hung before the show was 
made by a master of tapestry, who had woven it in 
the figure of a monstrous hydra that had several heads, 
which brandished out their tongues, and seemed to 
hiss at each other. Some of these heads were large 
and entire ; and where any of them had been lopped 
away, there sprouted up several in the room of them; 
insomuch that for one head cut off, a man might see 
ten, twenty, or an hundred of a smaller size, creeping 
through the wound. In short, the whole picture was 
nothing but confusion and bloodshed. On a sudden,' 
says my friend, ' I was starded with a flourish of many 
musical instruments that I had never heard before, 
which was followed by a short tune (if it might be so 
called) wholly made up of jars and discords. Among 
the rest, there was an organ, a bagpipe, a groaning- 
board, stentorophonic trumpet, with several wind in- 
struments of a most disagreeable sound, which I do 
not so much as know the names of. After a short 



2/6 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 

flourish, the curtain was drawn up, and we were pre- 
sented with the most extraordinary assembly of figures 
that ever entered into a man's imagination. Tlie de- 
sign of the workman was so well expressed in the 
dumb show before us, that it was not hard for an 
Englishman to comprehend the meaning of it. 

' The principal figures were placed in a row, con- 
sisting of seven persons. The middle figure, which 
immediately attracted the eyes of the whole company, 
and was much bigger than the rest, was formed like a 
matron, dressed in the habit of an elderly woman of 
quality in Queen EHzabeth's days. The most remark- 
able parts of her dress, were the beaver with the 
steeple crown, the scarf that was darker than sable, 
and the lawn apron that was whiter than ermine. Her 
gown was of the richest black velvet and just upon 
her heart studded with large diamonds of an inesti- 
mable value, disposed in the form of a cross. She 
bore an inexpressible cheerfulness and dignity in her 
aspect; and though she seemed in years, appeared 
with so much spirit and vivacity, as gave her at the 
same time an air of old age and immortality. I found 
my heart touched with so much love and reverence at 
the sight of her, that the tears ran down my face as 
I looked upon her ; and still the more I looked upon 
her, the more my heart was melted with the senti- 
ments of filial tenderness and duty. I discovered 
every moment something so charming in this figure, 
that I could scarce take my eyes off it. On its right 
hand there sat the figure of a woman so covered with 
ornaments, that her face, her body, and her hands 
were almost entirely hid under them. The little you 
could see of her face was painted ; and what I thought 
very odd, had something in it like artificial wrinkles ; 
but I was the less surprised at it, when I saw upon her 



RELIGIONS IN WAXWORK. 2// 

forehead an old-fashioned tower of grey hairs. Her 
head-dress rose very high by three several stories or 
degrees ; her garments had a thousand colours in 
them, and were embroidered with crosses in gold, 
silver, and silk : she had nothing on, so much as a 
glove or a slipper, which was not marked with this 
figure ; nay, so superstitiously fond did she appear of 
it, that she sat cross-legged. I w^as quickly sick of 
this tawdry composition of ribbons, silks, and jewels, 
and therefore cast my eye on a dame which was just 
the reverse of it. I need not tell my reader, that the 
lady before described was Popery, or that she I am 
now going to describe is Presbytery. She sat on the 
left hand of the venerable matron, and so much re- 
sembled her in the features of her countenance, that 
she seemed her sister ; but at the same time that one 
observed a likeness in her beauty, one could not but 
take notice, that there was something in it sickly and 
splenetic. Her face had enough to discover the rela- 
tion, but it was drawn up into a peevish figure, soured 
with discontent, and overcast with melancholy. She 
seemed offended at the matron for the shape of her 
hat, as too much resembling the triple coronet of the 
person who sat by her. One might see, Hkewise, that 
she dissented from the white apron and the cross ; for 
which reasons she had made herself a plain homely 
dowdy, and turned her face towards the sectaries that 
sat on the left hand, as being afraid of looking upon 
the matron, lest she should see the harlot by her. 

' On the right hand of Popery sat Judaism, repre- 
sented by an old man embroidered with phylacteries, 
and distinguished by many typical figures, which I 
had not skill enough to unriddle. He was placed 
among the rubbish of a temple ; but instead of weep- 
ing over it, (which I should have expected from him,) 



278 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 

he was counting out a bag of money upon the ruins 
of it. 

* On his right hand was Deism, or Natural Religion. 
This was a figure of a half-naked awkward country 
wench, who with proper ornaments and education 
would have made an agreeable and beautiful appear- 
ance ; but for want of those advantages, was such a 
spectacle as a man would blush to look upon. 

' I have now,' continued my friend, ' given you an 
account of those who were placed on the right hand 
of the matron, and who, according to the order in 
which they sat, were Deism, Judaism, and Popery. 
On the left hand, as I told you, appeared Presbytery. 
The next to her was a figure which somewhat puzzled 
me : it was that of a man looking, with horror in his 
eyes, upon a silver basin filled with water. Observing 
something in his countenance that looked like lunacy, 
I fancied at first that he was to express that kind of 
distraction which the physicians call the Hydrophobia : 
but considering what the intention of the show was, I 
immediately recollected myself, and concluded it to 
be Anabaptism. 

' The next figure was a man that sat under a most 
profound composure of mind : he wore an hat whose 
brims were exactly parallel to the horizon : his gar- 
ment had neither sleeve nor skirt, nor so much as a 
superfluous button. What he called his cravat, was 
a little piece of white linen quilled with great exact- 
ness, and hanging below his chin about two inches. 
Seeing a book in his hand, I asked our artist what it 
was, who told me it was the Quaker's rehgion ; upon 
which I desired a sight of it. Upon perusal, I found 
it to be nothing but a new-fashioned grammar, or an 
art of abridging ordinary discourse. The nouns were 
reduced to a very small number, as the /ig/i/, friend. 



RELIGIONS IN WAXWORK. 2/9 

Babylon. The principal of his pronouns was thou ; 
and as for you, ye, and yours, I found they were not 
looked upon as parts of speech in this grammar. All 
the verbs wanted the second person plural ; the parti- 
ciples ending all in ing or ed, which were marked with 
a particular accent. There were no adverbs besides 
yea and 7iay. The same thrift was observed in the 
prepositions. The conjunctions were only hein ! and 
ha I and the interjections brought under the three 
heads of sighing, sobbing, and groaning. There was 
at the end of the grammar a httle nomenclature, called 
"The Christian Man's Vocabulary," which gave new 
appellations, or (if you will) Christian names to almost 
everything in hfe. I replaced the book in the hand of 
the figure, not without admiring the simplicity of its 
garb, speech, and behaviour. 

' Just opposite to this row of religions, there was a 
statue dressed in a fool's coat, with a cap of bells upon 
his head, laughing and pointing at the figures that 
stood before him. This idiot is supposed to say in his 
heart what David's fool did some thousands of years 
ago, and was therefore designed as a proper repre- 
sentative of those among us who are called atheists 
and infidels by others, and free-thinkers by them- 
selves. 

' There were many other groups of figures which I 
did not know the meaning of; but seeing a collection 
of both sexes turning their backs upon the company, 
and laying their heads very close together, I inquired 
after their rehgion, and found that they called them- 
selves the Philadelphians, or the family of love. 

' In the opposite corner there sat another Httle con- 
gregation of strange figures, opening their mouths as 
wide as they could gape, and distinguished by the 
title of " The sweet Singers of Israel." 



280 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 

' I must not omit, that in this assembly of wax there 
were several pieces that moved by clock-work, and 
gave great satisfaction to the spectators. Behind the 
matron there stood one of these figures, and behind 
Popery another, which, as the artist told us, were each 
of them the genius of the person they attended. That 
behind Popery represented Persecution, and the other 
Moderation. The first of these moved by secret springs 
towards a great heap of dead bodies that lay piled 
upon one another at a considerable distance behind 
the principal figures. There were written on the fore- 
heads of these dead men several hard words, as Prae- 
Adamites, Sabbatarians, Cameronians, Muggletonians, 
Brownists, Independents, Masonites, Camisars, and 
the like. At the approach of Persecution, it was so 
contrived, that as she held up her bloody flag, the 
whole assembly of dead men, like those in the Re- 
hearsal, started up and drew their swords. This was 
followed by great clashings and noise, when, in the 
midst of the tumult, the figure of Moderation moved 
gently towards this new army, which, upon her holding 
up a paper in her hand, inscribed, " Liberty of Con- 
science," immediately fell into a heap of carcasses, 
remaining in the same quiet posture that they lay at 
first.' 



A FRIEND OF MANKIND. 

Charity is a virtue of the heart, and not of the 
hands, says an old writer. Gifts and alms are the 
expressions, not the essence, of this virtue. A man 
may bestow great sums on the poor and indigent, 
without being charitable, and may be charitable when 
he is not able to bestow anything. Charity is there- 



A FRIEND OF MANKIND. 28 1 

fore a habit of good will, or benevolence, in the soul, 
which disposes us to the love, assistance, and 'relief of 
mankind, especially of those who stand in need of it. 
The poor man who has this excellent frame of mind, 
is no less entitled to the reward of this virtue, than 
the man who founds a college. For my own part, I 
am charitable to an extravagance this way. I never 
saw an indigent person in my life without reaching 
out to him some of this imaginary relief. I cannot 
but sympathize with every one I meet that is in 
affliction ; and if my abilities were equal to my 
wishes, there should be neither pain nor poverty in 
the world. 

To give my reader a right notion of myself in this 
particular, I shall present him with the secret history 
of one of the most remarkable parts of my life. 

I was once engaged in search of the philosopher's 
stone. It is frequently observed of men who have 
been busied in this pursuit, that though they have 
failed in their principal design, they have, however, 
made such discoveries in their way to it, as have 
sufficiently recompensed their inquiries. In the same 
manner, though I cannot boast of my success in that 
affair, I do not repent of my engaging in it, because it 
produced in my mind such an habitual exercise of 
charity, as made it much better than perhaps it would 
have been, had I never been lost in so pleasing a 
delusion. 

As I did not question but I should soon have a new 
Indies in my possession, I was perpetually taken up 
in considering how to turn it to the benefit of man- 
kind. In order to do it I employed a whole day in 
walking about this great city, to find out proper places 
for the erection of hospitals. I had likewise enter- 
tained that project, which had since succeeded in 



282 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 

another place, of building churches at the court end 
of the town, with this only difference, that instead of 
fifty, I intended to have built a hundred, and to have 
seen them all finished in less than one year. 

I had with great pains and appHcation got together 
a list of all the French Protestants ; and by the best 
accounts I could come at, had calculated the value of 
all those estates and effects which every one of them 
had left in his own country for the sake of his religion, 
being fully determined to make it up to him, and 
return some of them the double of what they had 
lost. 

As I was one day in my laboratory, my operator, 
who was to fill my coffers for me, and used to foot it 
from the other end of the town every morning, com- 
plained of a sprain in his leg, that he had met with 
over against St. Clement's church. This so affected 
me, that, as a standing mark of my gratitude to him, 
and out of compassion to the rest of my fellow- citizens, 
I resolved to new pave every street within the liber- 
ties, and entered a memorandum in my pocket-book 
accordingly. About the same time I entertained some 
thoughts of mending all the highways on this side 
the Tweed, and of making all the rivers in England 
navigable. 

But the project I had most at heart was the settling 
upon every man in Great Britain three pounds a year, 
(in which sum may be comprised, according to Sir 
William Pettit's observations, all the necessities of 
life,) leaving to them whatever else they could get by 
their own industry, to lay out on superfluities. 

I was above a week debating in myself what I 
should do in the matter of Impropriations ; but at 
length came to a resolution to buy them all up, and 
restore them to the church. 



A FRIEND OF MANKIND. 283 

As I was one day walking near St. Paul's, I took 
some time to survey that structure, and not being 
entirely satisfied with it, though I could not tell why, 
I had some thoughts of pulling it down, and building 
it up anew at my own expense. 

For my own part, as I have no pride in me, I in- 
tended to take up with a coach and six, half a dozen 
footmen, and live Hke a private gentleman. 

It happened about this time that public matters 
looked very gloomy, taxes came hard, the war went 
on heavily, people complained of the great burdens 
that were laid upon them ; this made me resolve to 
set aside one morning, to consider seriously the state 
of the nation. I was the more ready to enter on it, 
because I was obliged, whether I would or no, to sit 
at home in my morning gown, having, after a most 
incredible expense, pawned a new suit of clothes, and 
a full-bottomed wig, for a sum of money which my 
operator assured me was the last he should want to 
bring all matters to bear. 

After having considered many projects, I at length 
resolved to beat the common enemy at his own 
weapons, and laid a scheme which would have blown 
him up in a quarter of a year, had things succeeded 
to my wishes. As I was in this golden dream, some- 
body knocked at my door. I opened it, and found it 
was a messenger that brought me a letter from the 
laboratory. The fellow looked so miserably poor, that 
I was resolved to make his fortune before he delivered 
his message ; but seeing he brought a letter from my 
operator, I concluded I was bound to it in honour, as 
much as a prince is to give a reward to one that 
brings him the first news of a victory. I knew this 
was the long-expected hour of projection, and which 
I had waited for, with great impatience, above half a 



284 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 

year before. In short, I broke open my letter in a 
transport of joy, and found it as follows : — 

Sir, 

After having got out of you everything you can 
conveniently spare, I scorn to trespass upon your gener- 
ous nature, and, therefore, must ingenuously confess to 
you, that I know no more of the philosopher's stone than 
you do. I shall only tell you for your comfort, that I never 
yet could bubble a blockhead out of his money. They 
must be men of wit and parts who are for my purpose. 
This made me apply myself to a person of your wealth and 
ingenuity. How I have succeeded, you yourself can best 
tell. 

Your humble servant to command, 

Thomas White. 

I have locked up the laboratory, and laid the key under 
the door. 

I was very much shocked at the unworthy treat- 
ment of this man, and not a little mortified at my dis- 
appointment, though not so much for what I myself, 
as what the public, suffered by it. I think, however, 
I ought to let the world know what I designed for 
them, and hope that such of my readers who find they 
had a share in my good intentions, will accept the will 
for the deed. 



DEMURRERS IN LOVE. 

As my correspondents upon the subjects of love are 
very numerous, it is my design, if possible, to range 
them under several heads, and address myself to them 
at different times. The first branch of them, to whose j 
service I shall dedicate this paper, are those that have 1 



DEMURRERS IN LOVE. 285 

to do with women of dilatory tempers, who are for 
spinning out the time of courtship to an immoderate 
length, without being able either to close with their 
lovers or to dismiss them. I have many letters by me 
filled with complaints against this sort of women. In 
one of them no less a man than a brother of the coif 
tells me, that he began his suit Vicesimo nono Caroli 
Secundi, before he had been a twelvemonth at the 
Temple ; that he prosecuted it for many years after 
he was called to the bar ; that at present he is a 
serjeant-at-law ; and, notwithstanding he hoped that 
matters would have been long since brought to an 
issue, the fair one demurs. I am so well pleased with 
this gentleman's phrase, that I shall distinguish this 
sect of women by the title of Demurrers. I find by 
another letter, from one that calls himself Thyrsis, 
that his mistress has been demurring above these 
seven years. But among all my plaintiffs of this 
nature, I most pity the unfortunate Philander, a man 
of a constant passion and plentiful fortune, who sets 
forth, that the timorous and irresolute Sylvia has 
demurred till she is past child-bearing. Strephon 
appears by his letter to be a very choleric lover, and 
irrevocably smitten with one that demurs out of self- 
interest. He tells me with great passion, that she has 
bubbled him out of his youth ; that she drilled him on 
to five-and-fifty ; and that he verily believes she will 
drop him in his old age if she can find her account in 
another. I shall conclude this narrative with a letter 
from honest Sam. Hopewell, a very pleasant fellow, 
who it seems has at last married a demurrer : I must 
only premise, that Sam, who is a very good bottle 
companion, has been the diversion of his friends, upon 
account of his passion, ever since the year one thou- 
sand six hundred and eighty-one. 



286 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 

Dear Sir, 

You know very well my passion for Mrs. Martha, 
and what a dance she has led me : she took me out at the 
age of two-and-twenty, and dodged with me above thirty 
years. I have loved her till she is grown as grey as a cat, 
and am with much ado become the master of her person, 
such as it is at present. She is, however, in my eye, a 
very charming old woman. We often lament that we did 
not marry sooner, but she has nobody to blame for it but 
herself. You know very well that she would never think 
of me whilst she had a tooth in her head. I have put 
the date of my passion, (Afino A/noris trigesivio priino^ 
instead of a posie, on my wedding-ring. I expect you 
should send me a congratulatory letter ; or, if you please, 
an epithalamium, upon this occasion. 

Mrs. Martha's and yours eternally, 

Sam. Hopewell. 

In order to banish an evil out of the world, that 
does not only produce great uneasiness to private 
persons, but has also a very bad influence on the pub- 
lic, I shall endeavour to show the folly of demurring, 
from two or three reflections, which I earnestly recom- 
mend to the thoughts of my fair readers. 

First of all, I would have them seriously think on 
the shortness of their time. Life is not long enough 
for a coquette to play all her tricks in. A timorous 
woman drops into her grave before she has done de- 
liberating. Were the age of man the same that it was 
before the flood, a lady might sacrifice half a century 
to a scruple, and be two or three ages in demurring. 
Had she nine hundred years good, she might hold out 
to the conversion of the Jews before she thought fit to 
be prevailed upon. But, alas ! she ought to play her 
part in haste, when she considers that she is suddenly 
to quit the stage, and make room for others. 



DEMURRERS IN LOVE. 28/ 

In the second place, I would desire my female 
readers to consider, that as the term of life is short, 
that of beauty is much shorter. The finest skin 
wrinkles in a few years, and loses the strength of its 
colouring so soon, that we have scarce time to admire 
it. I might embellish this subject with roses and rain- 
bows, and several other ingenious conceits, which I 
may possibly reserve for another opportunity. 

There is a third consideration, which I would like- 
wise recommend to a demurrer, and that is, the great 
danger of her falling in love when she is about three- 
score, if she cannot satisfy her doubts and scruples 
before that time. There is a kind of latter spring, that 
sometimes gets into the blood of an old woman, and 
turns her into a very odd sort of an animal. I would 
therefore have the demurrer consider what a strange 
figure she will make, if she chances to get over all 
difficulties, and comes to a final resolution, in that 
unseasonable part of her life. 

I would not, however, be understood by anything I 
have here said, to discourage that natural modesty in 
the sex, which renders a retreat from the first ap- 
proaches of a lover both fashionable and graceful ; 
all that I intend is, to advise them, when they are 
prompted by reason and inclination, to demur only 
out of form, and so far as decency requires. A vir- 
tuous woman should reject the first offer of marriage, 
as a good man does that of a bishopric ; but I would 
advise neither the one nor the other to persist in 
refusing what they secretly approve. 



l88 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 



SIR TIMOTHY TITTLE. 

It has always been my endeavour to distinguish 
between realities and appearances, and separate true 
merit from the pretence to it. As it shall ever be my 
study to make discoveries of this nature in human 
life, and to settle the proper distinctions between the 
virtues and perfections of mankind, and those false 
colours and resemblances of them that shine alike in 
the eyes of the vulgar ; so I shall be more particularly 
careful to search into the various merits and pretences 
of the learned world. This is the more necessary, 
because there seems to be a general combination 
among the pedants to extol one another's labours, 
and cry up one another's parts ; while men of sense, 
either through that modesty which is natural to them, 
or the scorn they have for such trifling commenda- 
tions, enjoy their stock of knowledge like a hidden 
treasure, with satisfaction and silence. Pedantry, in- 
deed, in learning, is like hypocrisy in religion, a form 
of knowledge without the power of it, that attracts the 
eyes of common people, breaks out in noise and show, 
and finds its reward, not from any inward pleasure 
that attends it, but from the praises and approbations 
which it receives from men. 

Of this shallow species there is not a more impor- 
tunate, empty, and conceited animal, than that which 
is generally known by the name of a critic. This, in 
the common acceptation of the word, is one that, 
without entering into the sense and soul of an author, 
has a few general rules, which, like mechanical instru- 
ments, he applies to the works of every writer, and 
as they quadrate with them, pronounces the author 
perfect or defective. He is master of a certain set of 



SIR TIMOTHY TITTLE. 289 

words, as Unity, Style, Fire, Phlegm, Easy, Natural, 
Turn, Sentiment, and the Hke ; which he varies, com- 
pounds, divides, and throws together, in every part of 
his discourse, without any thought or meaning. The 
marks you may know him by are, an elevated eye, 
and dogmatical brow, a positive voice, and a contempt 
for everything that comes out, whether he has read it 
or not. He dwells altogether in generals. He praises 
or dispraises in the lump. He shakes his head very 
frequently at the pedantry of universities, and bursts 
into laughter when you mention an author that is 
known at Will's. He hath formed his judgment upon 
Homer, Horace, and Virgil, not from their own works, 
but from those of Rapin and Bossu. He knows his 
own strength so well, that he never dares praise any- 
thing in which he has not a French author for his 
voucher. 

With these extraordinary talents and accomplish- 
ments. Sir Tmiothy Tittle puts men in vogue, or con- 
demns them to obscurity, and sits as judge of life 
and death upon every author that appears in public. 
It is impossible to represent the pangs, agonies, and 
convulsions, which Sir Timothy expresses in every 
feature of his face, and muscle of his body, upon the 
reading of a bad poet. 

About a week ago I was engaged at a friend's 
house of mine in an agreeable conversation with his 
wife and daughters, when, in the height of our mirth, 
Sir Timothy, who makes love to my friend's eldest 
daughter, came in amongst us puffing and blowing, 
as if he had been very much out of breath. He 
immediately called for a chair, and desired leave to 
sit down, without any further ceremony. I asked 
him, ' Where he had been ? Whether he was out of 
order ? ' He only replied, that he was quite spent, and 



290 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 

fell a cursing in soliloquy. I could hear him cry, ' A 
wicked rogue ! — An execrable wretch ! — Was there 
ever such a monster ! ' — The young ladies upon this 
began to be affrighted, and asked, ' Whether any one 
had hurt him ? ' He answered nothing, but still talked 
to himself. *To lay the first scene (says he) in 
St. James's Park, and the last in Northamptonshire ! ' 
* Is that all? (says I :) Then I suppose you have been 
at the rehearsal of the play this morning.' ' Been ! 
(says he ;) I have been at Northampton, in the Park, 
in a lady's bed-chamber, in a dining-room, every- 
where ; the rogue has led me such a dance ! ' — Though 
I could scarce forbear laughing at his discourse, I told 
him I was glad it was no worse, and that he was only 
metaphorically weary. 'In short, sir, (says he,) the 
author has not observed a single unity in his whole 
play ; the scene shifts in every dialogue ; the villain 
has hurried me up and down at such a rate, that I am 
tired off my legs.' I could not but observe with some 
pleasure, that the young lady whom he made love to, 
conceived a very just aversion towards him, upon see- 
ing him so very passionate in trifles. And as she had 
that natural sense which makes her a better judge 
than a thousand critics, she began to rally him upon 
this foolish humour. ' For my part, (says she,) I never 
knew a play take that was written up to your rules, 
as you call them.' ' Flow, Madam ! (says he,) is that 
your opinion? I am sure you have a better taste.' * It 
is a pretty kind of magic (says she) the poets have to 
transport an audience from place to place without the 
help of a coach and horses. I could travel round the 
world at such a rate. 'Tis such an entertainment as 
an enchantress finds when she fancies herself in a 
wood, or upon a mountain, at a feast, or a solemnity ; 
though at the same time she has never stirred out 



SIR TIMOTHY TITTLE. 29I 

of her cottage.' 'Your simile, madam, (says Sir 
Timothy,) is by no means just.' 'Pray, (says she,) 
let my similes pass without a criticism. I must con- 
fess, (continued she, for I found she was resolved to 
exasperate him,) I laughed very heartily at the last 
new comedy which you found so much fault with.' 
'BjLit, madam, (says he,) you ought not to have 
laughed ; and I defy any one to show me a single rule 
that you could laugh by.' ' Ought not to laugh ! (says 
she : ) Pray who should hinder me ? ' ' Madam, (says 
he,) there are such people in the world as Rapin, 
Dacier, and several others, that ought to have spoiled 
your mirth.' 'I have heard, (says the young lady,) 
that your great critics are very bad poets : I fancy 
there is as much difference between the works of one 
and the other, as there is between the carriage of a 
dancing-master and a gentleman. I must confess, 
(continued she,) I would not be troubled with so fine 
a judgment as yours is ; for I find you feel more 
vexation in a. bad comedy, than I do in a deep 
tragedy.' ' Madam, (says Sir Timothy,) that is not 
my fault ; they should learn the art of writing.' ' For 
my part, (says the young lady,) I should think the 
greatest art in your writers of comedies is to please.' 
' To please ! ' (says Sir Timothy ; ) and immediately 
fell a laughing. 'Truly, (says she,) that is my opinion.' 
Upon this, he composed his countenance, looked upon 
his watch, and took his leave. 

I hear that Sir Timothy has not been at my friend's 
house since this notable conference, to the satisfaction 
of the young lady, who by this means has got rid of a 
very impertinent fop. 

I must confess, I could not but observe, with a great 
deal of surprise, how this gentleman, by his ill-nature, 
folly, and affectation, hath made himself capable of 



292 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 

suffering so many imaginary pains, and looking with 
such a senseless severity upon the common diversions 
of life. 



FROZEN WORDS. 

There are no books which I more delight in than 
in travels, especially those that describe remote coun- 
tries, and give the writer an opportunity of showing 
his parts without incurring any danger of being exam- 
ined or contradicted. Among all the authors of this 
kind, our renowned countryman Sir John Mandeville 
has distinguished himself by the copiousness of his 
invention and greatness of his genius. The second 
to Sir John I take to have been Ferdinand Mendez 
Pinto, a person of infinite adventure and unbounded 
imagination. One reads the voyages of these two 
great wits with as much astonishment as the travels 
of Ulysses in Homer, or of the Red-Cross Knight in 
Spenser. All is enchanted ground and fairyland. 

I have got into my hands, by great chance, several 
manuscripts of these two eminent authors, which are 
filled with greater wonders than any of those they 
have communicated to the public ; and indeed, were 
they not so well attested, would appear altogether im- 
probable. I am apt to think, the ingenious authors 
did not publish them with the rest of their works, lest 
they should pass for fictions and fables : a caution not 
unnecessary, when the reputation of their veracity was 
not yet established in the world. But as this reason 
has now no further weight, I shall make the pubHc a 
present of these curious pieces at such times as I 
shall find myself unprovided with other subjects. 

The present paper I intend to fill with an extract of 



FROZEN WORDS. 293 

Sir John's journal, in which that learned and worthy 
knight gives an account of the freezing and thawing 
of several short speeches which he made in the terri- 
tories of Nova Zembla. I need not inform my reader, 
that the author of Hudibras alludes to this strange 
quality in that cold chmate, when, speaking of ab- 
stracted notions clothed in a visible shape, he adds 
that apt simile, 

Like words congealed in northern air. 

Not to keep my reader any longer in suspense, the 
relation put into modern language is as follows : — 

' We were separated by a storm in the latitude of 
73, insomuch that only the ship which I was in, with 
a Dutch and a French vessel, got safe into a creek of 
Nova Zembla. We landed, in order to refit our vessels, 
and store ourselves with provisions. The crew of each 
vessel made themselves a cabin of turf and wood, at 
some distance from each other, to fence themselves 
against the inclemencies of the weather, which was 
severe beyond imagination. We soon observed, that 
in talking to one another we lost several of our words, 
and could not hear one another at above two yards' 
distance, and that too when we sat very near the fire. 
After much perplexity, I found that our words froze in 
the air before they could reach the ears of the person 
to whom they were spoken. I was soon confirmed in 
this conjecture, when, upon the increase of the cold, 
the whole company grew dumb, or rather deaf; for 
every man was sensible, as we afterwards found, that he 
spoke as well as ever ; but the sounds no sooner took 
air, than they were condensed and lost. It was now 
a miserable spectacle to see us nodding and gaping at 
one another, every man talking, and no man heard. 
One might observe a seaman, that could hail a ship 



294 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 

at a league distance, beckoning with his hands, strain- 
ing his lungs, and tearing his throat, but all in vain. 

— Nee vox, nee verba, sequuntur. 

' We continued here three weeks in this dismal 
plight. At length, upon a turn of wind, the air about 
us began to thaw. Our cabin was immediately filled 
with a dry clattering sound, which I afterwards found 
to be the crackling of consonants that broke above 
our heads, and were often mixed with a gentle hiss- 
ing, which I imputed to the letter S, that occurs so 
frequently in the English tongue. I soon after felt 
a breeze of whispers rushing by my ear; for those 
being of a soft and gentle substance, immediately 
liquefied in the warm wind that blew across our cabin. 
These were soon followed by syllables and short words, 
and at length by entire sentences, that melted sooner 
or later, as they were more or less congealed ; so that 
we now heard everything that had been spoken during 
the whole three weeks that we had been silent, if I 
may use that expression. It was now very early in 
the morning, and yet, to my surprise, I heard some- 
body say, " Sir John, it is midnight, and time for the 
ship's crew to go to bed." This I knew to be the 
pilot's voice, and upon recollecting myself, I con- 
cluded that he had spoken these words to me some 
days before, though I could not hear them before the 
present thaw. My reader will easily imagine how the 
whole crew was amazed to hear every man talking, 
and see no man opening his mouth. In the midst of 
this great surprise we were all in, we heard a volley 
of oaths and curses, lasting for a long while, and 
uttered in a very hoarse voice, which I knew belonged 
to the boatswain, who was a very choleric fellow, and 
had taken his opportunity of cursing and swearing at 



FROZEN WORDS. 295 

me when he thought I could not hear him ; for I had 
several times given him the strappado on that account, 
as I did not fail to repeat it for these his pious solilo- 
quies when I got him on shipboard. 

* I must not omit the names of several beauties in 
Wapping, which were heard every now and then, in 
the midst of a long sigh that accompanied them ; as, 
dear Kate ! Pretty Mrs. Peggy ! When shall I see 
my Sue again? This betrayed several amours which 
had been concealed till that time, and furnished us 
with a great deal of mirth in our return to England. 

' When this confusion of voices was pretty well over, 
though I was afraid to offer at speaking, as fearing I 
should not be heard, I proposed a visit to the Dutch 
cabin, which lay about a mile further up into the 
country. My crew were extremely rejoiced to find 
they had again recovered their hearing, though every 
man uttered his voice with the same apprehensions 
that I had done : — 

— Et timide verba intermissa retentat. 

*At about half a mile's distance from our cabin, we 
heard the groanings of a bear, which at first startled 
us ; but upon inquiry we were informed by some of our 
company that he was dead, and now lay in salt, hav- 
ing been killed upon that very spot about a fortnight 
before in the time of the frost. Not far from the same 
place we were likewise entertained with some posthu- 
mous snarls and barkings of a fox. 

' We at length arrived at the little Dutch settlement, 
and upon entering the room, found it filled with sighs 
that smelt of brandy, and several other unsavoury 
sounds that were altogether inarticulate. My valet, 
who was an Irishman, fell into so great a rage at what 
he heard, that he drew his sword ; but not knowing 



296 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 

where to lay the blame, he put it up again. We were 
stunned with these confused noises, but did not hear a 
single word till about half an hour after ; which I as- 
cribed to the harsh and obdurate sounds of that lan- 
guage, which wanted more time than ours to melt and 
become audible. 

' After having here met with a very hearty welcome, 
we went to the French cabin, who, to make amends 
for their three weeks' silence, were talking and dis- 
puting with greater rapidity and confusion than ever I 
heard in an assembly even of that nation. Their 
language, as I found, upon the first giving of the 
weather, fell asunder and dissolved. I was here con- 
vinced of an error into which I had before fallen ; for 
I fancied, that for the freezing of the sound, it was 
necessary for it to be wrapped up, and, as it were, 
preserved in breath ; but I found my mistake, when I 
heard the sound of a kit playing a minuet over our 
heads. I asked the occasion of it ; upon which 
one of the company told me, that it would play 
there above a week longer if the thaw continued ; 
"For, (says he,) finding ourselves bereft of speech, 
we prevailed upon one of the company, who had 
this musical instrument about him, to play to us from 
morning to night ; all which time we employed in 
dancing, in order to dissipate our chagrin, et tuer le 
temps:' ' 

Here Sir John gives very good philosophical reasons, 
why the kit could be heard during the frost ; but as 
they are something proHx, I pass over them in silence, 
and shall only observe, that the honourable author 
seems, by his quotations, to have been well versed in 
the ancient poets, which perhaps raised his fancy 
above the ordinary pitch of historians, and very much 
contributed to the embellishment of his writings. 



THE TALL CLUB. 29/ 



THE TALL CLUB. 

I DO not care for burning my fingers in a quarrel, 
but since I have communicated to the world a plan, 
which has given offence to some gentlemen whom it 
would not be very safe to disoblige, I must insert the 
following remonstrance ; and, at the same time, 
promise those of my correspondents who have drawn 
this upon themselves, to exhibit to the pubhc any 
such answer as they shall think proper to make to it. 

Mr. Guardian, 

I was very much troubled to see the two letters 
which you lately published concerning the Short Club. 
You cannot imagine what airs all the little pragmatical 
fellows about us have given themselves, since the read- 
ing of those papers. Every one cocks and struts upon 
it, and pretends to over-look us who are two foot higher 
than themselves. I met with one the other day who was 
at least three inches above five foot, which you know is the 
statutable measure of that club. This overgrown runt has 
struck off his heels, lowered his foretop, and contracted his 
figure, that he might be looked upon as a member of this 
new-erected society ; nay, so far did his vanity carry him. 
that he talked familiarly of Tom Tiptoe, and pretends to 
be an intimate acquaintance of Tim. Tuck. For my part, 
I scorn to speak anything to the diminution of these littlb 
creatures, and should not have minded them, had they been 
still shuffled among the crowd. Shmbs and underwoods 
look well enough while they grow within the shade of oaks 
and cedars, but when these pigmies pretend to draw them- 
selves out from the rest of the world, and form themselves 
into a body, it is time for us. who are men of figure, to look 
about us. If the ladies should once take a liking to such 
a diminutive race of lovers, we should, in a little time, see 
mankind epitomized, and the whole species in miniature; 
daisy roots would grow a fashionable diet. In order, there- 



298 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 

fore, to keep our posterity from dwindling, and fetch down 
the pride of this aspiring race of upstarts, we have here 
instituted a Tall Club. 

As the short club consists of those who are under five 
foot, ours is to be composed of such as are above six. 
These we look upon as the two extremes and antagonists 
of the species; considering all those as neuters who fill 
up the middle space. When a man rises beyond six foot, 
he is an hypermeter, and may be admitted into the tall 
club. 

We have already chosen thirty members, the most 
sightly of all her Majesty's subjects. We elected a presi- 
dent, as many of the ancients did their kings, by reason of 
his height, having only confirmed him in that station above 
us which nature had given him. He is a Scotch High- 
lander, and within an inch of a show. As for my own 
part, I am but a sesquipedal, having only six foot and a 
half of stature. Being the shortest member of the club, I 
am appointed secretary. If you saw us altogether, you 
would take us for the sons of Anak. Our meetings are 
held, like the old Gothic parliaments, sub dio, in open air ; 
but we shall make an interest, if we can, that we may hold 
our assemblies in Westminster Hall when it is not term- 
time. I must add, to the honour of our club, that it is 
one of our society who is now finding out the longitude. 
The device of our public seal is a crane grasping a pigmy 
in his right foot. 

I know the short club value themselves very much upon 
Mr. Distich, who may possibly play some of his Pentame- 
ters upon us, but if he does, he shall certainly be an- 
swered in Alexandrines. For we have a poet among us 
of a genius as exalted as his stature, and who is very well 
read in Longinus's treatise concerning the sublime. Be- 
sides, I would have Mr. Distich consider, that if Horace 
was a short man, Musasus, who makes such a noble figure 
in VirgiPs sixth ^neid, was taller by the head and shoul- 
ders than all the people of Elysium. I shall therefore 
confront his lepidissiuiiDn homuncioiieifi (a short quotation, 
and fit for a member of their club) with one that is much 
longer, and therefore more suitable to a member of ours. 



ADVICE IN LOVE. 299 

Quos circumfusos sic est affata Sibylla, 

Musseum ante omnes : medium nam plurima turba 

Hunc habet, atque humeris exstantem suspicit altis. 

If, after all, this society of little men proceed as they 
have begun, to magnify themselves, and lessen men of 
higher stature, we have resolved to make a detachment, 
some evening or other, that shall bring away their whole 
club in a pair of panniers, and imprison them in a cup- 
board which we have set apart for that use, till they have 
made a public recantation. As for the little bully, Tim. 
Tuck, if he pretends to be choleric, we shall treat him like 
his friend little Dicky, and hang him upon a peg till he 
comes to himself. I have told you our design, and let 
their little Machiavel prevent it if he can. 

This is, sir, the long and short of the matter. I am 
sensible I shall stir up a nest of wasps by it, but let them 
do their worst, I think that we serve our country by dis- 
couraging this little breed, and hindering it from coming 
into fashion. If the fair sex look upon us with an eye of 
favour, we shall make some attempts to lengthen out the 
human figure, and restore it to its ancient procerity. In 
the mean time, we hope old age has not inclined you in 
favour of our antagonists, for I do assure you, we are all 
your high admirers, though none more than, 

Sir, Yours, &c. 



ADVICE IN LOVE. 

It is an old observation, which has been made of 
politicians who would rather ingratiate themselves 
with their sovereign, than promote his real service, that 
they accommodate their counsels to his inclinations, 
and advise him to such actions only as his heart is natu- 
rally set upon. The privy-counsellor of one in love 
must observe the same conduct, unless he would for- 



300 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 

feit the friendship of the person who desires his advice. 
I have known several odd cases of this nature. Hip- 
parchus was going to marry a common woman, but 
being resolved to do nothing without the advice of his 
friend Philander, he consulted him upon the occasion. 
Philander told him his mind freely, and represented 
his mistress to him in such strong colours, that the 
next morning he received a challenge for his pains, 
and before twelve o'clock was run through the body 
by the man who had asked his advice. Celia was 
more prudent on the like occasion ; she desired 
Leonilla to give her opinion freely upon a young 
fellow who made his addresses to her. Leonilla, to 
oblige her, told her with great frankness, that she 

looked upon him as one of the most worthless 

Celia, foreseeing what a character she was to expect, 
begged her not to go on, for that she had been pri- 
vately married to him above a fortnight. The truth 
of it is, a woman seldom asks advice before she has 
bought her wedding-clothes. When she has made 
her own choice, for form's sake she sends a conge 
d'elire to her friends. 

If we look into the secret springs and motives that 
set people at work on these occasions, and put them 
upon asking advice, which they never intend to take ; 
I look upon it to be none of the least, that they are 
incapable of keeping a secret which is so very pleasing 
to them. A girl longs to tell her confidant, that she 
hopes to be married in a little time, and, in order to 
talk of the pretty fellow that dwells so much in her 
thoughts, asks her very gravely, what she would advise 
her to in a case of so much difficulty. Why else 
should Melissa, who had not a thousand pounds in 
the world, go into every quarter of the town to ask 
her acquaintance whether they would advise her to 



ADVICE IN LOVE. 3OI 

take Tom Townly, that made his addresses to her 
with an estate of five thousand a year? 'Tis very 
pleasant on this occasion, to hear the lady propose 
her doubts, and to see the pains she is at to get over 
them. 

I must not here omit a practice that is in use among 
the vainer part of our own sex, who will often ask a 
friend's advice, in relation to a fortune whom they are 
never likely to come at. Will. Honeycomb, who is 
now on the verge of threescore, took me aside not 
long since, and asked me in his most serious look, 
whether I would advise him to marry my Lady Betty 
Single, who, by the way, is one of the greatest for- 
tunes about town. I stared him full in the face upon 
so strange a question ; upon which he immediately 
gave me an inventory of her jewels and estate, adding, 
that he was resolved to do nothing in a matter of such 
consequence without my approbation. Finding he 
would have an answer, I told him, if he could get the 
lady's consent, he had mine. This is about the tenth 
match which, to my knowledge. Will, has consulted 
his friends upon, without ever opening his mind to 
the party herself. 

I have been engaged in this subject by the following 
letter, which comes to me from some notable young 
female scribe, who, by the contents of it, seems to 
have carried matters so far, that she is ripe for asking 
advice ; but as I would not lose her good-will, nor for- 
feit the reputation which I have with her for wisdom, 
I shall only communicate the letter to the public, 
without returning any answer to it. 

Mr. Spectator, 

Now, sir, the thing is this : Mr. Shapely is the 
prettiest gentleman about town. He is very tall, but not 



302 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 

too tall neither. He dances like an angel. His mouth is 
made I do not know how, but it is the prettiest that I 
ever saw in my life. He is always laughing, for he has an 
infinite deal of wit. If you did but see how he rolls his 
stockings ! He has a thousand pretty fancies, and I am 
sure, if you saw him, you would like him. He is a very 
good scholar, and can talk Latin as fast as English. I 
wish you could but see him dance. Now you must under- 
stand poor Mr. Shapely has no estate ; but how can he 
help that, you know? and yet my friends are so unreason- 
able as to be always teasing me about him, because he has 
no estate : but I am sure he has that that is better than an 
estate ; for he is a good-natured, ingenious, modest, civil, 
tall, well-bred, handsome man, and I am obliged to him 
for his civilities ever since I saw him. I forgot to tell you 
that he has black eyes, and looks upon me now and then 
as if he had tears in them. And yet my friends are so 
unreasonable, that they would have me be uncivil to him. 
I have a good portion which they cannot hinder me of, and 
I shall be fourteen on the 29th day of August next, and am. 
therefore willing to settle in the world as soon as I can, 
and so is Mr. Shapely. But everybody I advise with here 
is poor Mr. Shapely's enemy. I desire, therefore, you will 
give me your advice, for I know you are a wise man ; 
and if you advise me well, I am resolved to follow it. 
I heartily wish you could see him dance, and am, 

Sir, your most humble servant, 

B. D. 
He loves your Spectators mightily. 



THOUGHTS IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 

When I am in a serious humour, I very often walk 
by myself in Westminster Abbey ; where the gloomi- 
ness of the place, and the use to which it is appHed, 
with the solemnity of the building, and the condition 



THOUGHTS IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 303 

of the people who he in it, are apt to fill the mind with 
a kind of melancholy, or rather thoughtfulness, that is 
not disagreeable. I yesterday passed a whole after- 
noon in the churchyard, the cloisters, and the church, 
amusing myself with the tombstones and inscriptions 
that I met with in those several regions of the dead. 
Most of them recorded nothing else of the buried per- 
son, but that he was born upon one day, and died 
upon another : the whole history of his life being 
comprehended in those two circumstances, that are 
common to all mankind. I could not but look upon 
these registers of existence, whether of brass or marble, 
as a kind of satire upon the departed persons ; who 
had left no other memorial of them, but that they were 
born and that they died. They put me in mind of 
several persons mentioned in the battles of heroic 
poems, who have sounding names given them, for no 
other reason but that they may be killed, and are 
celebrated for nothing but being knocked on the 
head. 

T\avK6v re MiSovrd re QepaiXox^v re. HOM. 
Glaucumque, Medontaque, Thersilochumque. ViRG. 

The life of these men is finely described in holy writ 
by * the path of an arrow,' which is immediately closed 
up and lost. 

Upon my going into the church, I entertained my- 
self with the digging of a grave ; and saw in every 
shovelful of it that was thrown up, the fragment of 
a bone or skull intermixt with a kind of fresh moulder- 
ing earth, that some time or other had a place in the 
composition of a human body. Upon this I began to 
consider with myself what innumerable multitudes of 
people lay confused together under the pavement 
of that ancient cathedral; how men and women, 



304 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 

friends and enemies, priests and soldiers, monks and 
prebendaries, were crumbled amongst one another, 
and blended together in the same common mass ; 
how beauty, strength, and youth, with old age, weak- 
ness, and deformity, lay undistinguished in the same 
promiscuous heap of matter. 

After having thus surveyed this great magazine of 
mortality, as it were, in the lump, I examined it more 
particularly by the accounts which I found on several 
of the monuments which are raised in every quarter of 
that ancient fabric. Some of them were covered with 
such extravagant epitaphs, that, if it were possible for 
the dead person to be acquainted with them, he would 
blush at the praises which his friends have bestowed 
upon him. There are others so excessively modest, 
that they deliver the character of the person departed 
in Greek or Hebrew, and by that means are not un- 
derstood once in a twelvemonth. In the poetical 
quarter, I found there were poets who had no monu- 
ments, and monuments which had no poets. I ob- 
served, indeed, that the present war had filled the 
church with many of these uninhabited monuments, 
which had been erected to the memory of persons 
whose bodies were perhaps buried in the plains of 
Blenheim, or in the bosom of the ocean. 

I could not but be very much delighted with several 
modern epitaphs, which are written with great elegance 
of expression and justness of thought, and therefore do 
honour to the living as well as to the dead. As a 
foreigner is very apt to conceive an idea of the igno- 
rance or politeness of a nation, from the turn of their 
public monuments and inscriptions, they should be sub- 
mitted to the perusal of men of learning and genius, 
before they are put in execution. Sir Cloudesly 
Shovel's monument has very often given me great 



THOUGHTS IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 305 

offence : instead of the brave rough EngHsh Admiral, 
which was the distinguishing character of that plain 
gallant man, he is represented on his tomb by the 
figure of a beau, dressed in a long periwig, and re- 
posing himself upon velvet cushions under a canopy 
of state. The inscription is answerable to the monu- 
ment ; for instead of celebrating the many remarkable 
actions he had performed in the service of his country, 
it acquaints us only with the manner of his death, in 
which it was impossible for him to reap any honour. 
The Dutch, whom we are apt to despise for want of 
genius, show an infinitely greater taste of antiquity 
and politeness in their buildings and works of this 
nature, than what we meet with in those of our own 
country. The monuments of their admirals, which 
have been erected at the public expense, represent 
them like themselves ; and are adorned with rostral 
crowns and naval ornaments, with beautiful festoons 
of seaweed, shells, and coral. 

But to return to our subject. I have left the re- 
pository of our English kings for the contemplation 
of another day, when I shall find my mind disposed 
for so serious an amusement. I know that entertain- 
ments of this nature are apt to raise dark and dismal 
thoughts in timorous minds and gloomy imaginations ; 
but for my own part, though I am always serious, I 
do not know what it is to be melancholy; and can 
therefore take a view of nature in her deep and solemn 
scenes, with the same pleasure as in her most gay and 
delightful ones. By this means I can improve myself 
with those objects which others consider with terror. 
When I look upon the tombs of the great, every emo- 
tion of envy dies in me ; when I read the epitaphs of 
the beautiful, every inordinate desire goes out ; when 
I meet with the grief of parents upon a tombstone, 



306 VARIOUS ESSAYS. 

my heart melts with compassion ; when I see the 
tomb of the parents themselves, I consider the vanity 
of grieving for those whom we must quickly follow : 
when I see kings lying by those who deposed them, 
when I consider rival wits placed side by side, or the 
holy men that divided the world with their contests 
and disputes, I reflect with sorrow and astonishment 
on the little competitions, factions, and debates of 
mankind. When I read the several dates of the 
tombs, of some that died yesterday, and some six 
hundred years ago, I consider that great day when 
we shall all of us be contemporaries, and make our 
appearance together. 



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